


Allegiant

by CaptainCinderBella



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Friendship, Identity Issues, Kree-Skrull War, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Post-Captain Marvel (2019), StarForce, war is stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 121,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21680575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCinderBella/pseuds/CaptainCinderBella
Summary: Carol has promised to find the Skrulls a home, but ten months later, they are still searching. Meanwhile, the charismatic Skrull General Veranke uses Talos's absence to strengthen her position and make new alliances.Yon-rogg has to rebuild his honor and his team after his failure. When an attack on the Kree colonies threatens the lives of millions, he makes the decision to ask for Carol's help as a last resort.
Relationships: Carol Danvers/Yon-Rogg, Soren/Talos (Marvel)
Comments: 155
Kudos: 146





	1. Recoil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This fic would not have happened without the support of[DenseHumboldt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenseHumboldt/pseuds/DenseHumboldt), who has done beta on every chapter._   
> 

Carol wiped dust off her bracer’s navigator. Ahead of her, Soren was squatting on the ground, gently picking up plant samples with a pair of tweezers and dropping them into test tubes. A brownish haze surrounded them and the fine dust stuck into every crease and opening in their suits. Although the air itself was breathable, Carol’s uniform’s automatic seal remained closed. 

Five survey teams were spread out across the planet and the different samples would provide an accurate analysis of its potential. In this case, though, the procedure seemed excessive, with the planet’s weak sun and polluted atmosphere. But it was the tenth planet they were surveying, and the people on board the _Mar-vell_ , as the cruiser was now unofficially named, though being used to waiting , were in low spirits. Once hope was sparked, impatience soon followed. It didn’t help that an additional forty or so refugees had joined them along the way, adding extra strain to everyone as well as the cruiser itself.

Soren finished her samples and they began walking back to the small two-seater they were using. Every step stirred up dust, leaving a smoke trail in their wake.

“You think this is a waste of time,” Soren observed.

“Yes. But I get it. You need to make it look like you are doing something.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the hiss of Soren’s rebreather. Soren seemed distant in thought, her expression brooding.

Assuming she knew the reason for her friend's worry, Carol assured, “I’ll find you a planet."

“I know you will.” Soren smiled briefly. “I was just thinking about everything that can go wrong when a new world is colonized.”

“What do you mean?”

“In a way, we would be invading it. When a new component is introduced to an ecosystem, the balance is altered. Colonizing a new world should not be taken lightly.”

“Hm. I never thought of it that way,” Carol said thoughtfully. “I guess like most humans I'm mostly concerned with the immediate future.”

"Your home planet is amazing." Soren sounded awed. “I have studied Earth’s biome while on the Mar-vell. Few worlds parallel it in complexity and biomass. Oh, wait!” 

Soren stopped and kneeled down, then rose and presented a small rock to Carol. It looked like nothing to her, just a bit of dead mineral with some obscure pattern on it.

“What is it?”

“A fossil,” Soren said excitedly.

Carol shook her head, but grinned. “You’re such a nerd, Soren. Let’s go.”

“So what do humans worry about?” Soren asked as they resumed walking.

“Earth has many different nations,” Carol explained. “There have been two World Wars. When I trained as a pilot, most of us were concerned about a third happening. Did something like that ever happen on Skrullos?”

Soren shook her head. “Most of our recorded history has been lost. There are stories of a ‘dark time’, more like legends really. But we have other ways to settle disagreements. Or, we had.” Her voice turned rueful. “Before the Kree.”

“Other ways?” Carol asked, curious.

“As you know, when a Skrull shifts, they inherit recent memories, feelings, from that body. Shifting was something we used to create understanding, between our own as well as other species. When you’ve seen the universe through so many different eyes it’s hard to think of anyone as truly evil. ”

“That makes sense I guess, but… you say you don’t think the Kree are evil?” 

“No,” Soren said easily. “They are sentients, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but-”

“Cruelty doesn’t happen in isolation. It’s always a result.” Soren made it sound as if this was an obvious truth. Cause and effect; why the apple hit the ground.

Carol had no response. She didn’t disagree, not entirely, but it wasn’t something she cared to think much about. In her opinion, choice was what defined a person. It was pointless to discuss why. At some point, liability had to pick up where coincidence left off. 

That train of thought inevitably led to her former Commander. She gritted her teeth, willing it to go away. Thinking about Yon-rogg was a useless waste of energy, serving only to make her hurt all over again. He had made the  _ wrong choice _ . It didn’t matter  _ why _ he’d done it. She didn’t care for his  _ reasons _ .

It was at least the thousandth time she’d repeated this mantra to herself, but the question kept coming back. _Why did you lie to me?_ She shrugged it off. He was of no consequence.

With her stomach in a knot, she opened the hatch to the ship. It powered up and her atmospheric seal deactivated as filtered air began circulating. She strapped into the pilot chair, hands on the control wheel, waiting. 

“All done,” Soren reported and came to join her, stopping as she saw her expression. “Did I say something that upset you?”

Carol snapped back to present, forcing a smile. “You could never upset me. It's just the usual.”

“New memories returning?”

“More like old ones,” she sighed.

“It’ll get better. You’ll find your balance,” Soren encouraged gently.

Carol offered a tight smile in response. She wasn’t sure that was true, but it was better to believe it than not to.

***

Talos waited for the static to recede and the hologram of the Skrull soldier to fully form. Like him, Veranke held the rank of General, though she was much younger. Since he had all but exhausted his resources in his quest to find Mar-vell’s light speed engine, Veranke now commanded the Skrulls’ largest remaining fleet. 

_“General Talos, I have something important to discuss with you.”_ She never wasted time on pleasantries, this one. Youthful impatience was written all over her lean features, making him feel old.

“I’m fine, how are you?” he replied dryly.

Veranke’s hologram glared at him a moment, but then she continued as if he’d said nothing, _“Have you given any thought to my proposal?”_

He purposely took on a bored tone. “Yes. Same answer as last time. I think an offensive at this point would be disastrous. We are down to mere thousands. The war is over, Veranke, and our people need a home.” 

_“There will be ample time to look for a planet_ after _we have defeated our enemy.”_ Her voice had an edge of anticipation, _“Captain Danvers’s actions on Terra have sparked hope among the oppressed. This is an opportunity we can’t let pass. I expect your support. As does the Council.”_

Of course she’d dragged the Council into this. Their refugee nation’s ruling body of elders didn’t have formal power over a General or Monarch, but their opinion weighed heavily nonetheless. He already felt like he was halfway into exile after defying them on numerous occasions over the latest cycles. Could he afford to do so again?

“What kind of support are you expecting from me? I’m a little tied down.”

Veranke tilted her head. _“I would have expected you to jump at any chance to finally get rid of the Kree, General. What has got into you? Or are your priorities only personal?”_

Hothead or not, Veranke should know better than to try goading him into cooperation. He growled, “Mind your tongue, General.”

Veranke bowed her head in a gesture of apology, but the confident smirk on her face told him her views were unaltered. 

“A new home world,” Talos said with emphasis, willing her to understand the importance of it, “is our best chance at keeping our people safe. Five cycles ago I would not have hesitated to join you, but we have to think of the future. We need to go far away, where the Kree can’t find us, where our hatchlings can grow strong on solid ground. We need to regrow our numbers and that is not possible in the middle of a war.”

Veranke’s smirk fell. _“Is that a ‘no’ then? Are you with or against me? That is what I’m asking.”_

Talos heart picked up speed. He was given an ultimatum but he didn’t know the stakes on either side of it. She was so sure of herself; it rankled him. That kind of attitude never boded well. “What are you planning, Veranke?”

 _“To end the Kree.”_ Her eyes seemed to glow as she spoke, her voice hard and uncompromising. “ _To avenge everything they’ve done to us.”_

“You’re delusional.”

She shook her head. _“I have the means. I merely need to know who I can trust to support me.”_

He was about to reply when soft padding of little feet made him look over his shoulder. His daughter was awake. “Dad,” the youngling whispered, “I woke up and you were gone.” 

He instantly felt guilty.

Veranke noted his distress. _“I can see you have matters to attend to, General. Let me know if we’re on the same side.”_ With that, she dismissed him and the connection broke. 

Talos lifted his daughter into his lap, slowly cradling her back to sleep. Meanwhile, his mind raced to figure out what kind of scheme his colleague had set into motion, and what the implications of it would be for his people.

***

_Ten months earlier._

The simulation was empty. Yon-rogg looked around hesitantly. He had been summoned before he’d even had the chance to clean up. Even in here, he could still feel the itch of sweat and sand on himself.

He’d had time to think though. Hours stuck in the drop ship had allowed him ample room to dwell on his failure.

Minn-erva was dead. Her uniform had sent one final desperate signal to him with that information. It was the first time he’d lost an operative, discounting Vers. And _that_ was worse. She’d proven to be exactly as powerful as he’d claimed, but he hadn’t succeeded in controlling her. That had been his most important task, and he had failed at it spectacularly. 

Finally, the Supremor materialized. As usual, his mirror image seemed to look down on him, though they should be the same height.

“Intelligence,” he said, bowing his head.

“We expected too much from you.” The words were spoken plainly, without contempt or anger, and that almost made it worse. 

He swallowed and took a slow breath before answering. He’d rehearsed this. “I was blind. I underestimated her. I lost control.”

“Yes.” Their voice was hard now. Condemning. 

He steeled himself. There was no way to go but forward. “Let me find her. I can bring her back to us.”

“You won’t have to.” For a terrible moment he thought that was the end of it. But then they added with a musing tone, “Because the Weapon will find _you_.”

Yon-rogg looked up, not understanding. “The Weapon?”

"The _Weapon_ will find you," the Supremor repeated, "and you will earn her trust again."

His heart sank even deeper. _The Weapon._ Of course.

"But she can be turned?" He couldn't deny a small hope stirred in him at the thought. The Kree _were_ right. If he just had time to explain, to make her understand, surely she would-

The Supremor held out their hand and a blinding light formed into a small metal object, no bigger than Yon-rogg’s little finger. His eyes widened. This was the type of active implant used to incarcerate their most despised traitors and criminals. The _Abyss_ was considered a fate worse than death. An eternal punishment, forever locked into your own worst nightmares. The Supremor placed the implant in his palm. Glowing tentacles fanned around it for a moment as it sensed the nearness of his skin through the fabric. Even in the simulation the tiny object filled him with dread.

The Supremor gently lifted his chin with their index finger, their voice eerily gentle, “A moment of carelessness on her part is all it takes. She is not without weakness. _You_ are that weakness. Succeed, and all will be forgiven." They let go of his face. 

The simulation closed around him, and he once again found himself alone in the Grand Temple's communion hall. In his hand was a small, hard object. He wanted to throw it away. But instead, he opened a hidden pocket in his bracer, and hid the implant there.

This was his punishment. His blood had contributed to the creation of a rogue weapon. He had given life to Vers, and so it was his task to end her.

"For the good of all Kree," he said to himself, and mentally closed the door on his feelings for the Weapon.


	2. Going Knowhere

The younglings giggled as Carol chased them through the cruiser. She halted in an alcove, pretending she didn’t see the two behind her.

“Now where are you..?” she menaced playfully. The kids snickered and Carol spun around with a victorious grin, curling her fingers like claws. “THERE!”

The younglings wailed with laughter and fled into the common area, climbing on top of the dining tables.

She abandoned her pursuit, put her hands on her hips and admitted defeat; “You are too fast! Not fair!”

Soren appeared in the room. “Mira, Jessup – down now,” she commanded.

The kids obediently slid down, settling on the floor where they had left the aircraft toys Carol had brought as Christmas gifts.

Soren said, “Sorry to spoil your fun Carol. There’s been a change of plans. Come, we’ll explain.” She added, with a lower voice, “Also, the analysis is finished and it offered no surprises. So that’s another planet off the list.”

They walked to the briefing room where Talos was involved in a discussion with a tall, lanky Skrull who Carol recognized as Vorik, the fleet’s new chief technician.

Vorik pointed at different points on a hologram of the Mar-Vell. “… these here, and here, are as good as spent and in need of replacement. And at least one of the CO2 scramblers needs replacing, too, if the ship is going to be any good for Captain Danvers in the long run.”

“I’ll manage,” Carol interjected. With a flash of photon power she reminded them that she could in fact survive in vacuum.

“Well, I have yet to see you do that in your sleep.” Talos winked.

“True!” She raised her hands in surrender. “I’d have to sleep in the _Chevy_!” That was the nickname she had given the vessel procured for her own travel needs. The ship was rudimentary, but still felt like a small home.

Talos pointed at the hologram to focus attention on the subject. “We have run into some technical difficulties and need to make a supply run. I can’t think of another place but Knowhere where we will be able to find the necessary parts and purchase them without attracting attention. Kree cruisers aren’t common outside the Empire.”

Soren added, ”We also need vaccines for the hatchlings, and we might as well stock up on food.” The suggestion was met with agreement.

“That’s ok,” Carol said with a shrug, “I’ll go scout for the next survey, I know where...”

Talos interrupted, “I had hoped you could stay on the Mar-Vell. I’ve gotten reports that there might be Kree scouts looking for Skrull refugees in the sector.”

“I see. Can’t you just leave the Mar-vell cloaked?”

“It’s a Kree ship. It will show if they run scans. And they will definitely be looking for this particular ship. It would ease my mind knowing you’ll keep watch.”

She considered the situation. The civilians would be left unprotected regardless if they followed through the jump point to Knowhere, or stayed behind. The delay would be minimal, regardless, as the repairs could be made during the next survey.

“Sure. I’ll keep watch.” She lifted a warning finger. “Just don’t expect me to be policing any house rules.”

***

Time-keeping was a challenge nowadays. Hala had a day of 18 hours and a year of 220 days, and one Kree-hour was roughly 1,5 Earth-hours. So far so good. But the Skrull used more complex time measurements due to their long term refugee status, with no home planet that offered a standard. The Skrulls’ _cycles_ were instead connected to major star lineups in the galaxy, and from there it split into smaller time units which she hadn’t quite got the hang of. Luckily she had managed to tweak her time keeper to include all three standards. But that did not help the feeling of being adrift, as there was no physical feedback to provide a sense of time.

So when Talos told her they expected to be back in _‘one tenth sub, give or take a few subreqs’_ she assumed it meant a few hours, since it was just a supply run.

When eight hours had passed, she considered calling him to ask again, but that would make her feel a little stupid. She put in the numbers as best she could remember into her time keeper, and the result from the calculation was twenty-one hours.

Carol groaned and slumped back into the pilot seat while listening to the chaotic yelling and running from the pack of dangerously under stimulated younglings, accompanied by the patient voices of the supervising adults.

She absently looked at the comm and fingered it open. Maybe she should call Talos and ask how things were going, at least. To her surprise, a recording lingered on the otherwise empty message board. Talos hadn’t deleted his last call. She ordered a replay of the conversation.

It was from another General; Veranke. Carol had never met her, but from what Talos had told her, Carol figured Veranke was sort of a Joan of Arc to the Skrulls. She wasn’t sure Talos would approve of the likeness though.

_“General Talos, I have something important to discuss with you.”_

Carol watched Veranke with interest. The young General was all confidence and propriety. Not unlike Carol's former Commander, actually. Fury got it right, she thought. War _is_ a universal language.

_“I think an offensive at this point would be disastrous.”_

Offensive? Carol was perplexed. Talos had said nothing of this. She listened intently to Veranke’s reply and she heard her own name mentioned. And a few exchanges later, the message became clear. _“Finally get rid of the Kree.”_

Carol felt a chill. This wasn’t some regular call between Generals to check-up on the other’s whereabouts.

 _“What are you planning, Veranke?”_ Talos asked, sounding worried.

_“To end the Kree. To avenge everything they’ve done to us.”_

_“You’re delusional.”_

She is, Carol thought. Kree forces outnumbered the Skrulls by at least one thousand to one. But what if Veranke’s bluster had some merit? She seemed so sure of herself. 

_“I have the means. I merely need to know who I can trust to support me.”_

Their conversation ended abruptly when Talos’s daughter appeared. Likely that’s why he forgot to erase the recording.

Carol slowly lowered herself into the backrest. A familiar discomfort grew in her.

There are no Kree scouts, she thought. Talos was worried about Veranke’s plans, whatever those were. And perhaps about what _she_ would do, should she find out. Why else would he keep this from her?

The discomfort grew into frustration. She couldn’t believe this of Talos. What else wasn’t he telling her? Carol balled her fists and felt the photon glow come and go as the wave of emotions washed over her.

Oh, how she missed Maria. She felt like dropping everything, throwing herself in the Chevy and flying home this very minute.

She had made a promise though.

But perhaps there was some way to speed up the planet search? The half formed idea appearing in her mind was enough; she went to fetch her uniform.

***

Carol knew of Knowhere in the way everyone, and certainly Starforce operatives, did, but no descriptions could prepare her for the view. It was otherworldly: A hollowed out skull the size of a moon, floating in a cloud of stardust. Despite the onset of her excursion she found herself smiling.

She steered her little vessel into the gigantic eye socket that all ships seemed enter and exit through. The landing pads inside were cluttered with a wide variety of spacecrafts and no real organization seemed to exist. Despite this, as she approached, a sentry appeared and guided her to a free spot. As she stepped out, the robot hovered in front of her. “Name and purpose at Exitar?” That was the name of Knowhere’s mining colony.

“Captain Carol Danvers.” Her chest swelled with pride of her true name and rank. “Shopping.”

The sentry seemed satisfied with this and fluttered off into the organized chaos to find its next client.

Carol strode along the same path that most visitors seemed to favor. She soon noticed the curious looks she received from the crowd. An alien with a breathing mask approached her. “Are you… Captain Marvel?”

“I am. But my name is actually Captain Carol Danvers.” She nodded encouragingly. “Who are you?”

But the alien had already turned around and shuffled into the crowd, where it seemed to tell everyone it met that _Captain Marvel is_ _here!_

The attention she received on her walk through Exitar did not intimidate her. Instead her mood lifted and she cheerfully greeted anyone who approached her. 

The inside of Knowhere consisted of vast irregular columns reaching through the empty space. Store fronts and businesses lay cluttered along their walls. Every level had a unique web of intersecting pathways, bridges and transportation lines. Small vehicles, automated sentries and winged creatures filled the air, like a giant beehive. It reeked of filth, food, sweat, rot, oil, kerosene and many other odors she couldn’t identify. 

Carol loved it. The organic chaos animated her.

Eventually she arrived at a junction where the steady flow of people to and from the landing pads dispersed into different directions. At the center of the junction was a small hut with a huge pink humanoid alien standing in it. From the look of things, it gave directions to visitors. Carol deliberately ignored the queue.

“HEY! Wait your turn!” someone shouted, but was quickly silenced by their companions.

Carol called back over her shoulder, “Sorry! It’ll just take a minute.”

“What can I help you with?” the alien said. By the sound of its voice the alien was a female but Carol wasn’t sure.

“I’m looking for a planet,” Carol said as if there was nothing odd about it.

“Are you lost, Captain?”

“No, I’m not lost. I want to _buy_ a planet. Does anyone sell one?”

The alien’s eyes narrowed. It then pointed its fleshy finger while giving directions, “You should talk to the Collector. Third floor, left corridor, over the bridge and take the elevator to you right, then you’ll see the Tivan Group signs.”

“Thank you.” Carol waved a swift goodbye and then lifted off the ground, enjoying the reactions from the onlookers. She couldn’t help herself but did an extra loop in the air for good measure. As a bonus, she imagined how her former Commander would be infinitely annoyed by such childish diversions.

The flight took but a minute. Finding the right door was harder, but eventually she entered a museum-like building with a high, vaulted roof. Whoever this Collector was, he apparently enjoyed showing off his inventory.

“Captain Marvel!” a sultry voice exclaimed. She turned and saw a tall, odd-looking man approach through the gallery. He could have been mistaken for a human or Kree, but clearly wasn’t either; his hair and eyes - except for his pupils - were completely white.

“You’re the Collector,” Carol stated.

“What can I offer an individual of your unusual esteem?” He stopped a little too close, towering above her, but she wasn’t made uncomfortable; she was used to the treatment.

“I want to buy a planet. Got one to spare?”

Her words seemed to puzzle as well as amuse the Collector. He took a step back, eyeing her thoroughly.

“Interesting. You need to be a little more specific. Planets come in many shapes and standards as you well know. But first…” He tilted his head towards her, raised his eyebrows and looked her in the eye. “What will you pay me with?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you can think of something.”

She let herself flare up for a moment. He stepped back, startled. She thought she heard him say the word _amazing_ under his breath.

“Carina!” the Collector called over his shoulder. A krylorian woman appeared with a datapad in her hands. “Take note of Captain Marvel’s wishes and find her a planet that fits her needs.” He looked at Carol again with a pleased smile. “I will go and arrange the payment _._ ”

The Collector was quickly out of sight behind the many exhibited objects. Carina cleared her throat to get Carol’s attention. “So, tell me, what is it that you need specifically?”

Carol gave Carina the numbers specifying the span of gravity, atmospheric composition, elements needed or unwanted in the planet crust, as well as an array of other needs that were less specific but still relevant. Finally, Carol told her that it was imperative that the planet was far away from the nearest jump point. This was normally not a desired trait for anyone wishing to start an operation on a new world, but it suited the Skrulls as they wished to avoid detection.

She waited as Carina sifted through what seemed like endless arrays of which she apparently had a solid grasp, because without hesitation she stopped the scrolling and brought up a set of numbers on the display.

Carol looked at the numbers, then nodded. This seemed too easy. “Do you sell planets often?”

“My master has a vast collection, Captain. Planets like this one are small assets compared to many other items.”

It hadn’t been an answer to her question but Carol nodded anyways. “So I can buy a planet just like that? You give me the coordinates, and that’s it?”

“If you can offer sufficient payment.” Carina switched off the datapad and tucked it under her arm. She was about to leave but Carol stopped her. 

“Wait. I need to be certain this information doesn’t reach anyone else.”

“The coordinates will be erased from our system, naturally,” Carina said as if this was evident. “You will be the only one holding the information, until you choose to share it.”

It wasn’t long before the Collector reappeared, smiling with his arms held wide. “I have good news, Captain. I can accept the payment you offered me. I have two things I need from you to secure your ownership of the desired planet.”

“Ok. Let’s hear it.”

“First, I want you to tell me what you _are._ The whole story. _”_

She looked skeptically at him. “What kind of payment is _that?”_

“One of the most valuable,” the Collector hummed. “Everyone has heard of you but almost no one knows where you come from, what you really _are_. I wish to know, as part of your payment to me.” He drew a breath and gestured to something far behind him. “And for the rest of the payment: You need to charge a battery of a sorts for me. The client who owns it specifically wants photon energy. Not easy to come by – but here you are!”

Carol chewed her lip for a moment, then she nodded. “Fine. I accept.”

The Collector made a gesture indicating he expected her to start talking.

Carol kept her voice unaffected and swift. “I was born on Earth, where I was a pilot. I flew experimental aircraft built by a brilliant scientist, who was my mentor.” She consciously left out Lawson’s name and the Tesseract out of her story. ”One day my ship was shot down by the Kree. They wanted the engine core...”

The Collector interrupted, “The engine core..?”

“Yes. My mentor built it using new tech that we had never seen before. I refused to hand it over to the Kree. I shot the engine to destroy it, or so I thought. Instead I absorbed the power from the blast. Then...”

Her voice trailed off as memories that she preferred to keep from herself came rushing like a dammed flood. The moments after she woke up on Hala was seared into her brain. It had been intended to be her first memory: His yellow eyes intently watching her as she stirred back to life as a result of his blood entering her veins, transforming her into something new.

“... I was brought to Hala and given a transfusion of Kree blood.”

The Collector nodded, his expression bright from interest. “So… you are a Kree-Terran hybrid. Infused with the power of this unique... engine core. The Kree’s compassionate act to save you in fact turned you into their most powerful enemy. How ironic.”

“Compassion?” Carol scoffed. “Kidnapping. Theft.”

The Collector watched her with a bemused smile. “Whatever you call it, it backfired quite spectacularly, didn’t it?”

“I guess so,” she shrugged. “Now, what about that other part of the payment?”

He asked her to follow as he made his way through the gallery. Plants and animals were encased in glass cubes and jars, stacking along the walls all the way to the vaulted ceiling. Some of the specimens seemed to still be alive inside their containment. Carol didn’t comment on this, but took note of the nature of the Collectors’ interest in her. 

He opened a door to a chamber with reinforced glass walls. In its middle was a strange-looking machine. It looked new, but more like a prototype. Like the things Mar-vell had been building in her laboratory. It was impossible to determine its purpose. Wires, blocks of mineral and rare metals were jumbled into its middle, and from them tubes reached almost all the way to the ceiling, connected to a web of wires encircling the whole contraption.

“What is it?”

“It doesn’t matter. My client needs photon energy; you need a planet.” He made an inviting gesture.

She hesitantly approached, trying to figure out what she was supposed to be doing. An electric battery had a plus and a minus pole. This was different.

She quirked an eyebrow. “So, do I just… zap it?”

When he didn’t reply she laid her hand on the metal holding the jumbled mess in place and gave it a little jolt as a test. To her surprise, the blast didn’t even show; the machine absorbed it entirely. She then placed both her hands on it and gave it a proper burst. The result was the same. She turned and looked at the Collector. “How do I know when it’s loaded?”

“I can tell. Just keep going.”

So she did. Carol had no means to measure the energy output from using her powers but felt like she gave it all she had. For a long while all that existed in her mind was the exhilarating rush of letting everything inside her free. The room became hotter and the Collector was forced to step out. The metal below her hands began to glow and weaken.

“That’s it!” She heard the voice of the Collector from outside the glass.

She let her powers fade. The battery was glowing white hot, but the heat slowly dissipated. 

“Did I break it?” she asked as she left the chamber.

“Not at all.” He handed her a memory unit. “And here’s your planet, Captain Marvel.”

***

On her way back to the landing pad, Carol once again encountered the alien with the breathing mask. It first made a display of reverence, shuffling to her side and beaming with admiration. Then, once it was close, its voice lowered to a hiss. “Come alone. The General wants to talk to you.” The creature pressed a small object into her hand and then hastily disappeared into the crowd. In her hand was something resembling a metal coin. She put it in her pocket and continued onward.

Then she suddenly found herself crowded by a group of masked humanoids wearing dirty, rough clothes. After the first surprise she realized that she had run into Talos and his crew, disguised as ore traders. One of them lightly tapped her wrist.

“Hello Talos, or is it Soren?” she said lightly. “How’s your day been?”

“It’s Talos,” the muffled voice behind the mask hissed. “Did something happen? Why are you here?”

She heard his annoyance and enjoyed it. It served him right for keeping things from her. “The kids are fine, if that’s what you mean.”

He was forced to keep their exchange short, or risk his cover. “We’ll talk when we’re back,” he said quietly and then directed his crew into an alley.

***

Once Carol had steered free of the traffic, she set her ship on autopilot. The Mar-vell was roughly one hour away, cloaked and hidden on the edge of an asteroid field. 

Carol examined the coin, turning it around to find any clues as to how she was meant to use it. When she found none, she experimentally gave it a little zap. A set of numbers appeared on the surface where the heat gathered. Coordinates.

Carol weighed her options for a moment. She could either head straight back to the Skrulls or take a detour to the given coordinates. The location was nearby and would require no access to jump points. Curiosity won her over and she rescheduled the autopilot to take her to the mystery meeting.

After two hours she was alerted that her destination was close. She dropped Monica’s comic book behind the pilot seat and switched off the autopilot. Her ship was quickly closing in on what looked like a dwarf planet. It was lifeless, the nearest star but a faint glow in the distance. In the planet’s shade was a cavern large enough for a sizable ship to hide in. As she entered the darkness, the side of a Skrull battle cruiser lit up, guiding her into its docking bay.

She was met by a handful of Skrull warriors, uniformed and armed. The one on the front bowed his head to her. “Captain Marvel, welcome to the _Vindicator_. General Veranke is waiting. Follow us.”

She was led to what she assumed was the ship’s command center. A holo table was lit up with a map of the central worlds of the Kree Empire. Surrounding the table were a dozen beings of different races; all of them dressed in ways that indicated high military rank, all of them from worlds conquered by the Kree Empire.

There was no need for introductions. They knew who she was and she knew what they wanted. _What everyone wanted from her, it seemed._

Veranke stepped from the table and approached. She was tall, even for a Skrull, her purple eyes lit with purpose. “Welcome, Captain. I am General Veranke. I’m glad you were able to meet us on such short notice. You have given hope to the galaxy. Our hope today is that you will be willing to give us not just that, but a future, as well.”

“I have no intention of fighting a war,” Carol stated, echoing the words of her late mentor. “I only wish to end it.”

“That is what we will accomplish,” Veranke assured. “You know the Kree from the inside, you _know_ they will never stop expanding their borders unless we fight back. Together.”

Veranke was all conviction and rightness. Carol thought many probably found this trust-inspiring, but life had proved to her that it was dangerous to take things at face value. “What are you planning?” she inquired.

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose details to anyone who is not committed.” 

_No surprises there,_ Carol thought. “How am I supposed to agree to help you if I don’t know what you are going to do?”

The General gave a disappointed sigh, tilting her head to one side while eyeing Carol thoughtfully. “I assumed we were on the same side, but perhaps old allegiances are not so easily washed out.”

“I am _not_ allied with the Kree”, Carol growled. She steadied her voice to a diplomatic tone, “and I won’t fight a war. Before she was killed, Mar-vell asked me to protect your people. I promised I would find you a home where you would be safe.”

Veranke snorted, “Despite your best efforts to prove the opposite, you are so obviously Kree, Captain. You don’t understand what it is like to be us. To be on the run for centuries. To see our hatchlings hunted down like vermin.” 

The General’s voice crackled with controlled wrath. “Talos accepted help from Mar-vell, but he forgot that she too was Kree. What a _convenient_ solution to send us all far away into unknown space. _Convenient_ that the Kree would be left to conquer the rest of the Galaxy with no one to oppose them.”

Veranke’s speech granted her many approving nods in the room.

Carol stood short of arguments to counter. She had assumed all Skrulls adored Mar-Vell and were grateful for her attempt to help them.

Veranke took three long strides towards Carol, pinning her with her gaze. “I ask, no, I _beg_ you to reconsider. There will be no neutral ground, Captain.”

“Yes there will,” Carol protested. “There is the option of a new home planet outside the Empire.”

“I am sure that will make Talos very happy,” Veranke scoffed. “But you and I both know it will only delay the inevitable.”

Carol wanted to be angry but instead felt her resolve crumble under the weight of Veranke’s words. Though not completely; she still felt it was imperative that she remained neutral.

“I won’t fight for you. But I _will_ defend your civilians if the Accusers attack your planets. I’ll give you my signal code, that way you can reach me wherever I am.”

Carol felt Veranke’s eyes on her as she with a swift command transferred her code to the holo table’s terminal. As she left the Vindicator, a sense of discomfort grew in her, a feeling that she was overlooking something crucial. One thing she was certain of at least; this was not the last she’d seen of General Veranke.


	3. Lies

As soon as all crates were loaded and lashed, Soren settled herself in the cockpit and removed her mask and cloak.

“You should be more careful,” Talos remarked as he appeared shortly after.

“We’re almost done, and I needed the relief,” she said smugly, reaching for his hand. “Come here.”

She playfully pulled him down, pushed his mask aside and leaned in to kiss him, but stopped, noting his weary expression. “What's wrong? Is it Carol?”

“That’s part of it,” he admitted, a regretful scowl on his face. “I lied to her. About the Kree scouts. I think she might have found out.”

In the background they received confirmation that all was onboard. Talos took the pilot seat and Soren set herself up as copilot. The engines fired up and they slumped backwards for a moment as the ship lifted and caught speed. Neither of them spoke for a while. Soren studied her mate, as if watching the way he maneuvered the ship could give her a clue to what he was thinking.

Vorik appeared in the doorway but Talos dismissed him, asking for a moment alone.

_ Now he is going to skirt around the subject,  _ Soren thought.

Talos sighed, “If the way you look at me is your way of telling me I’m in trouble...”

“Tell me what is going on.”

His grip on the control wheel tightened.

When he didn’t speak, she remarked, “I usually can tell when you’re lying but this time you eluded me.” That seemed to finally loosen his tongue.

“I suspect it would have been better if I hadn’t.” His voice held affection, but the scowl remained. The autopilot engaged and he released the controls. His eyes lingered on the empty space ahead. ”I think Veranke will call for a vote.”

Soren’s jaw dropped for a moment. “Why would she do that?”

“Because she asked me to support her war campaign, and I refused.” He reached for her hand, urgently squeezing it. “If they vote for her as Queen, I won’t have that option anymore.”

The prospect hit harder than Soren had thought it would. They had been given so precious little time together. Although she, like all Skrulls, were taught to defend herself and fight if necessary, she wasn’t a warrior at heart.

Talos, on the other hand, could harden himself until he seemed far removed from the man she loved. Soren was the only one who knew about the stubborn sensibilities hidden within him. She knew he hurt as much as she did; he only endured it better.

“Soren.” His voice was intent and clear, pulling her back from her thoughts. “I would rather become rejected and lose my title, than fight for Veranke. Question is, could you forgive me if that happened?”

She looked at him with astonishment. An involuntary grin tugged on her lips. She knew this wasn’t something to laugh about, but she couldn’t help herself. The relief was too great. “Rogue General Talos,” she mused, “Liking the sound of that.”

He snorted, but cracked into a smile that matched hers. “Carol is rubbing off on you.”

“She does that.”

“I hope she won’t send me flying through the ship hull.”

Soren made a face of mock pity and gave his hand a little squeeze. “Fortunately, you are a very brave man.”

Talos shook his head, still smiling. “As my mate, aren’t you supposed to be… you know… supporting my decisions?”

“When you make good ones.”

***

Carol met with the crew as they arrived from Knowhere. She had planned to corner Talos immediately but his and Soren’s daughter came running and Carol hadn’t the heart to intervene. Instead, she grudgingly settled for helping them unload the purchases.

It seemed however like Talos had gotten the hint, because his eyes soon met hers and he nodded in the direction of the doors. She followed him as he left.

“I met with Veranke,” she revealed as soon as they were out of ears reach.

His expression was unreadable. “I suspected as much. She had people on Knowhere, didn’t she?”

Carol ignored the redundant question. “You forgot to delete your call. Did you lie about the Kree scouts to keep me away from her?”

“I made a wrong decision, Carol, and I’m sorry. Will you let me explain?”

“I thought we were in this together.” Her voice was thick with hurt. She knew she was emoting but it was too much for her to contain. “I thought we trusted each other.”

They came into the Mar-vell’s observation deck. It was an oval space furnished with some padded benches, muted light and a generous panorama of the starlit space.

Talos stepped into the room after her, hesitant as if he thought she would attack him. His voice was calm but there was nothing patronizing about his demeanor, only earnestness. “I trust you with my life. Now, will you let me explain?”

She nodded stiffly and sat down on a bench, facing the stars.

He settled on the opposite side with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped. “As you know, we are governed by a council. On rare occasions the council chooses a monarch. When that happens, this monarch is sovereign to every military commander in our joined fleet. I suspect Veranke will make an attempt to be elected Queen. I’ve kept this from everyone. Including Soren. Veranke asked you to join her, didn’t she?”

Carol nodded. “I said I wouldn’t fight for her. But I made a promise to defend their home worlds if the Accusers make a move.”

“I thought,” he said regretfully, ”if I could find us a new home world, the council would no longer support her aggression.”

“Veranke thinks everything Mar-vell did was for nothing,” Carol said hollowly. She slumped forward, supported her elbows on her knees and pulled her hands through her hair, gathering it into a messy bundle behind her head. “They all do.”

“It was not for nothing.” His voice was almost a whisper.

Something broke within Carol then. A dam burst before she could stop it. She drew a ragged breath and straightened, wiping the moisture from her cheeks. “I don’t know what’s right and wrong anymore Talos. Everything, my whole life...”

Talos gave a breathy chuckle. “That makes two of us.” He reached for her hand and she let him take it. “I have long forgiven everything you did to me, my warriors, my ship… Because that wasn’t really you. You were a weapon forged by the Kree. But the moment you opened yourself to the truth – that’s when you made a  _ choice  _ , Carol.”

He stilled and waited for her to process his words. That’s when she suddenly remembered: “I found you a planet.” She presented the memory unit from her pocket.

Talos was puzzled. “How? When?”

“Or rather,” she corrected. “I bought one. From the Collector. Its location is unknown to anyone else.”

He took the unit and twirled it between his fingers. “What did he ask in return?”

“Nothing I couldn’t afford.” She hesitantly added, “I’m going home now.”

“I understand,” he lamented. “You’ll be missed.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” She meant it.

“You should give this to Soren.” He handed her the memory unit. “She’s probably in the laboratory. I’ll be by the hangar if you need me.”

He rose, gave her a nod and left to join his crew.

In the laboratory, Soren was busy unpacking and moving vaccine doses to a freezer where they would remain until administered.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Carol greeted, leaning against the doorway. “But I have something you need to worry about.”

Soren closed the freezer. She looked quizzically at Carol as the latter approached and held out the memory unit.

“You  _ did  _ say you would  _ start  _ worrying when we found a habitable planet.”

While Carol explained the order of events that led to her bartering for a planet, Soren plugged the unit into a computer and wrote a series of commands. Page after page of calculations and glyphs ran across the screen. Then a holographic display of a planet appeared.

Carol startled, “Was  _ that  _ in the memory unit?”

Soren shook her head. “No, this is just a simulation of the data.”

The hologram displayed a planet with three moons, an appealing patchwork of land and water and a horizontal green belt. Both the planet and its moons slowly spun.

“Look,” Soren pointed. “It has ice rings. They don’t show up here so much, but I can imagine what it looks like in the evening.” Her voice was wistful. She looked at the celestial body with almost motherly affection. “It’s also quite young. Life has hardly gotten foothold.”

Soren tapped a few commands and the image zoomed out drastically, showing the planet and its star system in relation to the jump point network. “It’s located adjacent to a jump point, but not right on it. To by-passers it's just another star. It’s at least a tenth sub and five reqs of travel in between, I’d say.” Soren smiled indulgently at Carol’s helpless expression and translated, “About twenty-four hours.”

“Talos has told me about Veranke. What will you do?”

Soren looked smug. “If you are right and this information exists on this unit only, she will not find us - even if Talos refuses to obey the council.”

Soren stepped close and leaned her forehead against Carol’s. Carol returned the gesture by placing her arms on Soren’s shoulders. It was a simple act, but to the Skrull it indicated the strongest kind of belonging; that among family members.

“Thank you for this,” Soren said warmly. “I will definitely worry about it. And you should go home, to your family.”

Her and Soren’s heartfelt goodbye was followed by a series of hugs and respectful nods as Carol made sure to give a proper farewell to everyone on the Mar-vell. Even Vorik, despite being the newest crew member, seemed moved by her departure.

She left the Mar-vell in high spirits. It seemed, for the moment, like everything would come right.

***

The terrain ahead was difficult to navigate. The ruins were covered in dense vegetation and their line of sight was hampered by thick fog.  _ Perfect spot for an ambush  _ , Yon-rogg thought.

He ordered his team to a standstill and was pleased to see his two newest members immediately finding their places. Ta-rinn perched on a small hill, using her sniper rifle to watch their front, and Mar-tess covering Att-lass’s back as he watched the pathway they had just arrived from.

“Ta-rinn, what are we looking at?” he inquired.

Ta-rinn spoke swiftly: “Heat signatures from three, no, four targets ahead. They are hiding by the archway.”

“Right,” Yon-rogg looked at his team. “They expect us to move through the center, across the archway. I, Bron-char and Att-lass will walk into the trap.” The two veterans nodded in acknowledgment.

Yon-rogg looked at Mar-tess, the newest member of the team after Ta-rinn. The young Kree was armed with twin pistols, same as Att-lass. “Korath and Mar-tess, you circle us on the outside, go left. Stay hidden. Take them down from behind when they attack.”

Only the sniper remained. “Ta-rinn, watch our backs. Keep to the right and stay elevated. Move out.”

He took the lead, as always. He moved slow on purpose, wanting to give Korath and Mar-tess the time needed to circle around.

When he reached the foot of the archway, he halted. “Korath?” he said quietly into the comm.

“Ready,” the warrior instantly replied.

Yon-rogg opened one of his magnitron gauntlets and made the gesture to move forward.

The hostiles came in fast. One of the Skrulls was instantly killed by a bullet from behind them.  _ Ta-rinn is showing off  _ , he noted.

He ignited his gauntlet and pushed the remaining three hostiles back. Att-Lass fired towards the right and Bron-char engaged the single enemy on the left.

Korath emerged from behind the enemy with Mar-tess following. They efficiently dispatched the Skrulls on the right, freeing Att-lass to swiftly turn and shoot Bron-char’s opponent in the head.

Yon-rogg allowed himself a brief smile. He deactivated the simulation.

As soon as he was free to move from his pad he took two forceful strides towards Ta-rinn who had just stepped away from hers.

“Disobeying orders, are we?” he berated her. “If your job is to watch our backs I have to trust you to do just that.”

She nodded. “Yes, Commander. Won’t happen again.” No glare. No quip. Ta-rinn’s expression was even and balanced; everything a Kree warrior was expected to be.

“Good.” He nodded and then addressed his team as a whole, “You did well. We will continue training tomorrow at four. Dismissed.”

Yon-rogg remained in the simulation room when the others left. Korath lingered in the doorway. Things had been uneasy between him and his second in command since the disaster on C53. He knew very well why, but couldn’t address it openly:

While  _ he  _ had allowed his feelings to get the better of him, allowing Vers to best and humiliate him, Korath had kept his cool. It was thanks to Korath that Att-Lass and Bron-char made it back to Hala. Unlike Yon-rogg, he had carried out his duty without fault. If Korath had been in command on that mission, things would have ended differently.

_ And Vers would have been dead  _ , his treacherous heart whispered.

“Commander,” Korath said. “I wish to inform you that Ronan has offered me the Pursuer title.”

“You are a worthy warrior, Korath,” Yon-rogg said. The truth would remain unsaid between them. It was for the better. “I will not find an equal to replace you.”

The warrior bowed his head at the praise before leaving.

Yon-rogg let out a breath he hadn’t noticed holding. In a way it was a relief to have Korath leave the team. The broken trust would never be fully mended and between a Commander and his second, that was a dangerous situation. Though It jarred him that Ronan so liberally could usurp one of his team members without consulting him first.

It was evening. He went to the armory, pleased to note that he was the only one left. He removed his Starforce uniform, handling it with all the reverence it deserved as he hung it in place. Then he routinely checked through his weapons before returning them to their place on the shelf. His casual wear was neatly folded, just as he had left it. Everything about his life was back to routine.

_ Except one significant detail,  _ he admitted.

In his apartment unit, dinner was cooling on the counter. The house attendant had left it there some half an hour ago. As he sat down to eat, his communicator pinged. He opened it. It was a reminder; his father was expecting him for dinner in less than an hour. He had forgotten. He let out a slow, frustrated sigh. Hearing his father’s condolences for the failed mission was the very last thing he wanted right now. But not showing up was the only thing possibly worse than doing so.  _ Act normal. Keep control. _

He pulled on a jacket, went out and took the train to his father’s house. Actually, calling it house was flattering. It was part of a subdivided property with large apartments arranged in rows along the water’s edge. Once it had been home to the privileged, but wealthy clients had long since abandoned this part of Hala. Rising sea water and constant condense increased the wear on everything, and the once white, glistening facades were now gray-green from constantly regrowing algae. However, the inside was clean and tidy with Kree-typical, minimalistic design.

He was late, but his father did not comment on that fact as they met in the door. The tall man had skin bluer than the sea, but their eyes were so strikingly similar no one could ever doubt they were father and son. 

Vel-rogg nodded curtly, taking a halting step backward to let Yon-rogg in, his aged prosthesis leg encumbering him. “Good to see you, son.”

“Ty-rogg isn’t coming?”

“Your brother is busy,” Vel-rogg replied. Yon nodded. Ty-rogg and he were alike that way. The only difference was that Ty-rogg was married, something his father apparently believed was an excuse to remain absent. 

The food was a simple seaweed soup which was, as Yon-rogg expected, a tad under spiced. Proof his father had done the cooking himself. 

“I heard about Vers,” his father opened. Yon-rogg cringed inwards but simply nodded in response, his face carefully blank. His and Vers’s close friendship had been the worst kept secret he’d ever had. He was famous. She was at the start of what should have been a star-blessed career. No way something like her sudden disappearance would pass under the radar. “I’m sorry. I know you were close.”

He swallowed, struggling to remain neutral. “It was my failure. I should have trained her better.”

His father only shook his head, a rare hint of sympathy entering his voice. “It’s truly horrific what was done to her. Imagine stealing a person’s identity from them and turning them into a weapon. And at the hands of those terrorists. Monstrous.”

Monstrous indeed, Yon-rogg thought grimly, and the irony of the whole cover-up tasted bitter like ash in his mouth. The lie must be widespread indeed if his father, a retired enforcer captain, had access to it. That lie, he reminded himself, was the truth he now had to learn to live by. And it wasn’t perhaps too far from the truth. The Skrulls  _ had _ twisted her idea of right and wrong. But they hadn’t wiped her memories. Only the Supremor themselves were guilty of that.

“I have an early morning,” he said, knowing all too well his father would notice the way he was wriggling himself out of conversation before it turned personal.

“All your mornings are early. Tell me, when was the last time you spent your free time outside of Starforce tower?”

Years. “Once every few days, how so?”

Vel-rogg peered at him from under his brow. “I don’t mean that old gym you’re so fond of.”

Losing his cool slightly, Yon-rogg retorted, “That ‘old gym’ was what we could afford after mother died.”

At the mention of Una-rogg, Vel-rogg looked away sullenly. Her death had broken them all in different ways. The economic difficulties were a thing of the past, but there were things money couldn’t fix. But it made some difference, if not by smoothing over everyday problems.

Yon-rogg wondered if his father was behind on the rent again. The man was too stubborn to let him or Ty-rogg help, but on occasion he had bribed the right pocket to postpone eviction until Vel-rogg had stayed off useless race-betting for long enough. 

“Thank you for the food.” he said politely. “Goodnight.”

On the train back to upper Hala, he missed Vers so much it physically hurt. She was the only one with whom he had shared personal things like his family history with. She was the only one who knew the terrible, lonely truth that was the life of the mighty Commander Yon-Rogg. 

Back in his apartment, he sifted through reports relayed to him from command, but found nothing that stood out. He looked around in his home, a fruitless search for something useful to do, but everything was in order. Clean. Neat. Perfect. He stepped to his sleeping alcove, already knowing what awaited. 

Sleep eluded him these days. He had never had trouble sleeping before. It was as if Vers had left him the curse of sleeplessness she had suffered from during her life here.

It was the same every night, regardless of how exhausted he was. When he was on the verge of falling asleep, a memory crept up on him.

_ It was one the first assignments he’d been given after basic training. Together with four others, his task was to escort a convict. To this date, he didn’t know what she had done, but assumed it was grave. Treason probably. _

_ They were led by an Accuser as they took her to a place far below Hala’s surface. There, he and the others restrained the convict as the Accuser placed an implant on her neck. The glowing tentacles immediately rushed to dig into their helpless prey, slithering across her skin, impaling her spine, burrowing into her brainstem. She had screamed at first, but soon became silent and limp, her eyes unseeing. _

_ He had been told then that the implant severed the connection between her brain and body. If it was removed, she would instantly die. As it were, she would be abandoned underground, locked into a metal casket that would sustain her brain until the end of her natural life. _

In the last moments of the memory, right before he was allowed to fall to sleep, the face he saw, as the metal lid closed, was Vers’s.

He woke up too early.

Without deliberation, he dressed in his training clothes, instinctively fleeing the stillness of his unit in favor of the cool morning air and steady rhythm of running.

Anything to chase away the emptiness.


	4. Annihilation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Aegis is the same type of ship as the Helion.

“You  _ do _ know this policy is going to backfire eventually?” Carol adjusted her satchel over her shoulder as she walked out of the Chevy. She was wearing her Starforce uniform and her old leather jacket.

“I’m glad to see you too.” Fury approached with arms spread wide and a grin on his face. “And since you don’t follow the rules anyways, why bother complaining?”

The discussion on secrecy was an ongoing one. Carol had grudgingly conceded to park her ship in the hangar in Atlanta, as SHIELD weren’t too keen on the idea of citizens finding spacecrafts parked in the Louisiana wetlands.

“I’m a practically minded individual!” she justified.

“That you are.” He embraced her. “Welcome home.”

“Will the Chevy be safe here?”

“Absolutely.” He presented the two-way pager she had upgraded for him. It displayed her latest message. “Can I bother you for an update on the galactic situation? The whole  _ ‘RTB 12 hrs’  _ wasn’t entirely exhaustive.”

“That was just meant to give you a heads-up, boss. But sure. Skrulls have a planet, and, um… there’s a rebellion against the empire.”

Fury raised his eyebrows. “What, like in Star wars?”

Carol looked away briefly as she contemplated the likeness. “Yeah, kinda like Star wars.”

She went on to explain the situation between Talos, Veranke, and the alliance formed by the latter.

“So, threat level towards Earth is still zero?”

“As far as I can tell, yes. Still just another lucky backwater planet.”

A  _ meow _ from the far side of the hangar caught her attention. “Aww… Goose!” Carol hurried towards the flerken. Goose purred and affectionately pushed her head against Carol’s hand.

“She likes you more than me, although  _ I’m  _ the one feeding her,” Fury grumbled, sauntering towards the door. “C’mon, let’s have a look at your car.”

Carol looked up from Goose and sighed, “I don’t  _ need _ a car, Fury.”

“And I don’t need human fireworks upsetting the public.”

“I will not drive six hours when I can fly in ten minutes.”

They ended up in a deadlock stare. Fury looked away first. “Be discreet.”

“I promise. Did you call Maria and tell her I was coming?”

“I did. I also asked her again if she would work for me.”

Carol chuckled and shook her head. Fury had tried to recruit Maria for a while now, but her best friend was reluctant to leave her life in New Orleans. Besides, despite his best efforts, Fury wasn’t able to get sufficient funds for a revival of Pegasus.

After making sure Monica’s precious comic books were safe inside her satchel, Carol took off from the SHIELD office’s rooftop.

It was afternoon and the overcast sky provided ample cover for her flight. Though the atmosphere impaired her speed due to air resistance, the sensation of compressed air parting around her body and the trail of condensed vapor forming behind was exhilarating.

When she closed in on the green and blue patchwork that was Louisiana’s coastal marshlands, she descended sharply and landed gracefully on the lawn at the back of Maria’s house, causing a rustle in the nearby trees.

“Auntie Carol!” Monica ran from the porch, throwing herself in her arms.

“LT,” Carol said and dug her face into Monica’s curls. She was notably taller now than when Carol had seen her at Christmas.

Maria appeared from her workshop, drying her hands on a stained cloth. 

After everyone had finished hugging, Monica asked, “Did you find the Skrulls a planet?”

“I think so,” Carol smiled.

“That means you’ll stay, right?” the child beamed.

Carol looked questioningly at Maria, who filled in, “Carol can stay here for as long as she wants, but there’s no way of knowing when she might be needed elsewhere.”

“That’s right,” Carol said. “Oh and  _ this _ time I remembered!”

She opened her satchel and showed the stack of comic books inside. To her dismay, Monica’s eyes narrowed and she looked anything but pleased. “You. Rolled. The. Spines,” the girl hissed.

“Did not!” Carol exclaimed, but immediately conceded, “Okay maybe a little.”

Monica snorted. “I can  _ see _ they are rolled.”

“What can I offer as compensation?”

“You  _ could _ take me flying...”

Carol looked to Maria for support, but the latter just shrugged and began walking towards the house, calling over her shoulder, “Come in when you’ve settled this and we’ll make dinner.”

Monica smiled victoriously and climbed onto Carol’s back. Carol wasn’t sure how this would work; she had never taken someone flying with her like this before. At first she just lifted them a few feet above ground. Monica giggled. “Higher,” the girl urged her on, “Further.”

“Faster,” Carol finished as they soared towards the sky.

After dinner, Monica chose a movie that she thought Carol should watch. They made popcorn. Maria had bought Carol’s favorite beer brand. They settled on the sofa and before half of the movie had played, Carol slept on Maria’s shoulder.

Next morning, she woke up still on the sofa. Maria had placed a blanket on her while she slept and now her benefactor entered the room and opened the blinds. Carol blinked against the light.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.” Maria lowered a steaming cup to the sofa table. “Coffee’s ready.”

Carol reached for the cup, relishing the smell. She tentatively moved her other hand to her hair, noting the tussled halo around her head. Her voice was raspy from sleep. “How long did I..?”

“About twelve hours.” Maria moved some pillows away to fit herself beside Carol. “Monica’s already gone to school.”

With only the two of them present, Carol took the opportunity to tell Maria about all that had surpassed since they last saw each other.

“You know,” Maria remarked, “you may be on friendly terms with Talos but he is still a General. He is perfectly in his rights to withhold information if he thinks it’s necessary. As for Vorinka...”

“Veranke.”

“… I have to admit she has a point.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Carol muttered into her almost empty cup.

“Ok, so what is your plan?”

“I don’t know… I’ll have to think about it. Any suggestions?”

Maria gave her a look of disbelief. “Ok, so how about: Go to Hala and put that piece of skynet-trash where it belongs?”

Carol downed the last of her coffee. “You’re absolutely right. But while I’m here, is there anything I can do to help you out?”

“Can you weld?”

“I don’t see why not?” Carol held up her index finger and focused her powers to the tip.

Carol spent the day helping Maria renovate an old propeller plane. There was something immensely satisfying about discovering how her powers could be used to  _ mend  _ things, as opposed to destruction. Getting the seams tight and smooth required focus, but Carol quickly improved.

“You have still scarcely said a word about your life on Hala, you know,” Maria remarked in the pause between the strikes as she hammered on a stuck bolt.

“I don’t see why that’s important. It wasn’t me. Never was.”

Maria continued as if Carol hadn’t spoken, “It’s not uncommon for people who’ve been held prisoner, or, in your case, abducted, to form attachments to their captor.”

Carol accidentally melted the seam, causing the smooth surface to bulge. She gritted, “Nope, no lingering attachments.”

Maria stopped hammering. “Ok. I’ll just say it then: Did you have feelings for Yon-rogg?”

A flare sent tools clattered to the floor when Carol lost control. She glared at Maria. “It doesn’t matter.” She returned attention to her work, breathing deeply as she once again focused her power into a thin, white hot flame.

Maria thankfully didn’t press the matter further. She didn’t have to.

***

Once they were through the last jump point, the team gathered in the Aegis’s assembly area for mission briefing. Yon-rogg came from the cockpit after a quick word with the pilot who would assist them today.

“We have been called to assist ground forces here on Caal with a suspected terrorist attack: An aggressive organism. Little is known about the creatures so far. Local security named them  _ drocs  _ after the first encounter twelve days ago. They are aggressive, dangerous - “

Yon-rogg opened a recording of ground forces engaged in battle with alien, fast moving creatures, flailing spiked tentacles in every direction. In their middle was a beak-like maw.

“- very fast, and duplicate their numbers every twenty-six hours.” He changed the imagery to show a map of the city. “Irrid is currently under siege by forces commanded by Admiral On-Sar. So far, they have been able to contain the drocs, but Accuser warships are ready should the situation prove unsalvageable.”

He didn’t need to explain to the team why it was desirable to avoid bombing Irrid. Caal was a major resource planet, producing the biggest share of vibranium as well many rare metals.

“Our mission is to get into the city unnoticed and find out how the drocs grow their numbers and whether there are any surviving civilians. When it is time to extract, the Aegis will pick us up. We will be at a serious disadvantage. No one engages the enemy unless they attack first.

_ We haven’t had enough time to train together for this kind of mission,  _ Yon-rogg thought. Especially Su-el who joined the team a week ago was ill prepared, despite her excellent service record. He hid his doubts behind practiced professionalism. “You have all trained for this and I have confidence in your abilities. For the good of all Kree.”

The team repeated the phrase just as the Aegis touched ground. Their helmets automatically engaged night vision as they moved into the pitch black night. Ahead of them, in a valley formed between two massive mountains, lay the city. On the far side, artillery began their assault on the city perimeter. If the plan worked, the sound would distract the drocs.

“Mar-tess, you take point with me and provide direction. Silence is the rule from this point, unless we engage the enemy.”

They moved swiftly through the darkness down a slope towards the underground tunnel that would take them into the city unseen. It had not been an easy choice of strategy – Yon-rogg knew they would be vulnerable down here should they encounter hostiles. But entering on ground level likely meant engaging the enemy head on, and that wasn’t their mission today. They walked for ten minutes through compact darkness.

Above their heads, thumping noises vibrated through the tunnel roof. The team looked anxiously at each other. Yon-rogg had never missed Vers more than he did right now. They could certainly use the firepower.  _ Especially without the inhibitor _ .

Mar-tess made the sign for  _ stop _ . He then gestured  _ up – close – vantage point  _ and pointed his right gun in the direction of a dimly lit tunnel exit with a staircase. From here, the plan was to evaluate the situation from an apartment tower.

Yon-rogg was about to gesture the order for them to move, but the cracking of stones hitting the floor behind them stopped him. The team needed no order to move to defense position. He could feel their fear and how ready they were to fight for their lives. They were used to being well informed, facing technologically inferior opponents. This situation was as alien to them as the enemy itself.

His instincts screamed at him to abort mission, but it was too late. The tunnel wall burst open and a flurry of writhing, flailing tentacles emerged.

“Get to the surface!” he ordered them and ignited his gauntlets. “Att-lass, Mar-tess, cover fire.”

It was hard to discern through the night vision how many creatures were approaching them. On each side of him, Att-lass and Mar-tess fired furiously into the fast-moving mass of black, slick tentacles. They had no idea what to aim for.

Yon-rogg slowly backed towards the staircase. Bron-char, Su-el and Ta-rinn were already halfway up. He ordered a retreat and turned to run. Just as he set foot on the first step, Mar-tess screamed. The worlds slowed for a moment as Yon-rogg saw his team-member impaled by a barbed tentacle and pulled into the darkness.

Ta-rinn shouted a warning. There was an explosion and a shock wave as the stairwell collapsed behind him as a result of a well-aimed grenade. At least for now, the pursuing drocs were trapped in the tunnel.

They scrambled into the shadows of the apartment tower. Yon-rogg gestured towards the open doors. They entered the building in tight formation, wary of any sound.

“Mar-tess?” Bron-char whispered. Yon-rogg shook his head and gestured  _ ‘Gone’ _ .

They moved upwards using the stairs. Every apartment door they passed had been smashed in. Trails of blue blood were everywhere. At one instance, Yon-rogg spotted a child’s plush in a doorway.

On the tenth floor they encountered an intact door for the first time and Bron-char forced it open. The apartment was a large one, probably owned by an executive. Yon-rogg gestured for Ta-rinn to take position at the window. Su-el opened the equipment she had been carrying; a movement tracker. The device would alert them to any rapid movement in the vicinity.

Att-lass tapped Yon-rogg’s shoulder to get his attention, pointing towards the next room with an unarmed hand. Yon-rogg peeked inside.

Cowering behind some furniture was a blue-skinned Kree family. Two adults with two small children, a girl and a boy. The look on their face as they saw the stars on his chest spoke of immense relief. Yon-rogg put his finger on his lips.  _ Stay quiet _ . They all nodded. The children tentatively approached and Yon-rogg offered them a tight-lipped smile. The boy pointed at himself, then towards his family, and then upwards, his expression hopeful.  _ You’re getting us out of here? _

Yon-rogg nodded.  _ I am.  _ He didn’t care about protocol in this case. There was no way he would leave this family to their fate as he and his team soared towards safety onboard the Aegis. He gestured for them to stay where they were.

Su-el alerted him. “We have movement, Commander. It’s in the unit next to this.”

Yon-rogg’s decision was instantaneous. “Alright. We’re getting out. The civilians are coming with us.” He engaged his comm. “Aegis, come in. I request immediate extraction, sending my coordinates.”

Something massive crashed through the wall in the other room, followed by frantic screaming from the family. The boy just about managed to get through the door when a tentacle impaled his chest, sending him backwards into the creature’s maw.

Yon-rogg and Att-lass furiously fired their pistols at the droc, aiming for its center. The creature writhed in its death struggle but eventually became still. Att-lass threw a glance into the room where the family had been alive moments ago and then looked back towards Yon-rogg, shaking his head.

There was nothing more they could do here. The movement scanner showed a myriad of moving bodies heading rapidly towards them.

Yon-rogg sent Bron-char, Ta-rinn and Su-el first while he and Att-lass took the rear. As they raced up the stairs a rumbling sound grew in strength as the drocs came nearer.

The doorway to the roof flew open to Bron-char’s assault. Then the team skidded to a stop.

“They’re on the outside!,” Bron-char roared.

The drocs had moved on the outside of the building and were now surrounding them, blocking their way out. Yon-rogg engaged his gauntlets, forming a protective dome around his team.

“The Aegis will be here any moment,” Yon-rogg assured them. “Stay close.”

The team huddled around him in the middle. Bron-char and Su-el switched to their backup firearms. Tentacles pushed through the field but retracted when fired upon. More and more creatures appeared, pushing against the dome, climbing on top of each other, taking up more and more of their vision.

Yon-rogg began to move himself and his team step by step towards the edge of the roof. “We will only have one shot at this,” he yelled. “When the Aegis is in position, I will explode the gravity field. With any luck, those things will be thrown back. You all jump aboard. Do  _ not  _ wait.”

The engine sound from the Aegis was just about audible over the hiss and crawl of the drocs. Over the comm, the pilot confirmed that they were in position. Yon-rogg sent a silent prayer to the Collective and then pushed the gauntlets’ power to the point where they overloaded. The shimmering blue dome flashed brightly before expanding in every direction. Most of the creatures were thrown off the roof by the blast, but the few remaining instantly recovered. Yon-rogg was the last to retreat. He fired a few shots at the nearest droc to slow it down, earning him the moment he needed to make the jump.

He landed with a roll on the ramp just as it closed. He stood kneeling, panting a few seconds before moving again.

They had made it.

Yon-rogg’s eyes swept over every team-member, stopping at Su-el who was clutching her forearm. “Ta-rinn, help Su-el,” he ordered before heading to the cockpit.

As a routine, he thanked the pilot, though he couldn’t remember her name. Via the comm he informed command of their status. He then went back to do a more thorough check on his team.

Bron-char and Att-lass were leaning against the walls in the assembly area with shock on their faces. They both acknowledged him silently. He understood their reaction. It always came when a warrior was allowed to let down their guard. Only Yon-rogg wasn’t ready to do that just yet.

He was met by Ta-rinn at the door to med bay. Ta-rinn, who was normally balanced, was now chewing her lip, eyes darting from place to place.

“Everything alright?” he inquired.

She shook her head. “Su-el just has a minor wound but she is still worsening. I think there’s some kind of infection.”

Yon-rogg pushed past her. Su-el was lying on the stretcher, a deathly pale tone to her pink skin. She looked at him with wild eyes. “I’m dying, aren’t I?” she whispered hoarsely.

“Let’s get back to base camp and see what they can do for you, they’ve been in this for longer than we have.”

He remained in med bay for the duration of the flight back to base camp. While he watched her rapid deterioration, a theory began to form in his mind. The lack of bodies. The duplication rate.

He swallowed and slowly moved his hand to the pistol, never averting his eyes from his newest recruit. He didn’t think Su-el took notice, as she was barely conscious. When they reached base camp, she had passed out. A group of medics rushed onboard to get her to quarantine.

Instead of sending someone from his team with Su-el, he went himself, leaving Att-lass the task of reporting to the Admiral. In the quarantine module, Su-el was moved inside an airtight chamber with transparent walls.

“Can I shoot through the wall?” Yon-rogg asked.

After some hesitation, the medic left in charge made a slight nod.

He didn’t know how long he had waited with his hand on his pistol when Su-el’s life signs, from fading into nothingness, suddenly spiked. Not one second later, he aimed his pistol at her heart. He didn’t care what the others in the room thought. Su-el was his charge and responsibility. If anyone was going to pull the trigger on  _ his _ team member, it would be him.

Su-el’s skin seemed to shed, like a reptile. Yon-rogg grit his teeth and his breathing came in short bursts through his nose. His eyes were locked on Su-el through the pistol aim. What happened inside the chamber was defying his understanding of biology. But yet it was happening. Beneath Su-el’s pink skin, a slithering, black mass began to emerge.

He took the shot.

After two hits to her chest and one through her head, Su-el, or what was left of her, was dead.

Yon-rogg’s chest was heaving and his mind spun with shock.

This was unthinkable.


	5. War stories

Caal’s surface had become a dusty, fiery inferno as the Accuser missiles rained down.

Yon-rogg watched silently from the Aegis’s cockpit. Att-lass stood beside him. Not a word was uttered, and he wondered if they were thinking of the same thing.

_ You can’t do this, _ he had said as the Admiral declared the immediate withdrawal of troops from the planet surface.

_ I’m sorry Commander.The Accusers will handle this from now on, as decided by the Supreme Intelligence,  _ On-sar had replied, her expression regretful but firm.

The realization that the drocs were carriers of a mutation virus had effectively ended all attempts at saving the civilian population on Caal. All military personnel had been evacuated and were now quarantined in orbit around the planet.

That could have been the end of it. If only, Yon-rogg thought. During the last four hours, reports of droc attacks on eight different planets, spread across four jump points, had rained in. Two of those were Caal’s neighbor planets Marra and Suur. All affected planets had been quarantined, awaiting the arrival of the Accusers and their deadly payload.

He had never felt so helpless, so infuriated by the indiscriminate destruction. Because despite the drastic action taken, no one had any clue as to where the virus came from. Everything at the moment concerned containment.

From the corner of his eye he saw Att-lass looking at him, as if waiting for him to say something.

“I will commune with the Supreme Intelligence,” Yon-rogg declared, and walked to the back of the Aegis where the communion pad was located.

He paused a moment to gather his thoughts and clarify his intention. Then he stepped onto the pad and relinquished himself to the simulation.

The Supremor emerged instantly, scowling. “Yes?” They sounded annoyed.

“Your Intelligence. We are not protecting the people of the Kree Empire like this,” Yon-rogg stated flatly. “The colonies must be evacuated. It is worth the risk.”

He knew he was stepping out of line. Once he might have been in a position that allowed some leeway, but that was in the past.

The Supremor strode towards him, their voice icy, “You just lost a third of your team on a simple recon mission, Commander.”

Yon-rogg felt his conviction waiver. His gaze fell to the floor. “We were sent into the unknown. We were lucky to get out at all.”

The Supremor’s heavy hand fell on his shoulder. He hesitantly looked up. They looked down at him with concern. “I will forgive this obstinacy, because your presence of mind saved many lives today. Now return to Hala, and...”

“What about Vers?” The words surprised him though he himself had uttered them.

The Supremor stopped in motion, apparently recalculating their intended course of action.

“She might consider helping us,” he clarified.  _ If I can find her. _

The Supremor studied him and their grip on his shoulder tightened. Then they suddenly let go, leaving him feeling relieved and rejected at the same time. “You have three days to find the Weapon, Yon-rogg. Then the Accusers will continue purging the infected colonies.”

“Thank you, Your Intelligence, I won’t-”

“Disappoint us? Let’s hope not. Don’t -” the Supremor raised a warning finger “- lose control. Remember our orders.”

Being reminded of the implant always made the air escape his lungs. “Yes, Your Intelligence.”

“Very well.” The Supremor clapped their hands in the same way he sometimes did to snap his team’s attention from distractions. “You had better get going, don’t you think?”

***

Spirits were high near the end of Friday night karaoke at the local joint. Carol had just finished a somewhat reluctant version of  _ Tainted Love _ , owning up to Maria’s challenge.

“Ok, ok. That was very funny,” Carol said, reclaiming her beer only to discover that the bottle was empty.

“Oh, why the sarcasm, love? I meant no innuendo, I swear.” Maria made a most unconvincing innocent face which immediately cracked into a grin.

Carol’s eyes narrowed while she weighed her options on a suitable revenge. “ _ Don’t you want me _ .” They were at their third challenge for the evening, neither one prepared to either submit or call it a draw. “I’m getting another beer.” Carol headed off to the crowded bar.

She took the only vacant seat but before she had the opportunity to order, Maria began singing. Carol grinned, reveling in her friend’s embarrassment, but still sang along on the chorus and clapped and cheered dutifully at the end.

There was a thump on the counter as the bartender placed a bottle on it. Carol looked surprised at the man. “I haven’t ordered.”

The bartender pointed at a rye-haired man a few seats away who unabashedly waved his hand when he saw he had Carol’s attention. He was sorts of handsome, but it didn’t matter. She set her jaw and refused to acknowledge the greeting.

“I want to pay for it.”

“The gentleman already has, sweetheart,” the bartender called over his shoulder as he with expert swiftness prepared a drink.

Sweetheart my ass, Carol thought, glaring at him, and was about to leave when she pretty much collided face to face with a smiling Maria.

“Four days since you landed and already stealing the hearts of the young?”

“Oh, shut up.” She glanced quickly at the man who by now looked rather miffed. 

“Can’t blame him for trying.”

“Can we go home?” The evenings when Monica was with her maternal grandparents usually dragged on pretty late but Carol wasn’t in a mood any more. 

Her friend looked seriously at her. “Is this about your ex-crush on Hala? Is that why a person can’t flirt with you without you looking like you could bite their head off?”

“Really?” Carol rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “My _ ex-crush _ ? How very mature of you.”

Maria winked. “You’re the one who won’t speak of it so what else am I supposed to believe?”

Carol groaned. “Can we please just go?”

“Okay. This place is thinning out anyways.”

Carol left the full bottle untouched on the counter. The cool night air seemed to help Maria sober up, because the glee was gone from her tone when she said,

“I’m not bugging you about Hala because I’m trying to be mean.”

“I know." Carol kicked a pebble so it skidded away. “I was never good at sharing, was I?”

“Nope,” Maria answered with a drawn out ‘n’.

Maria walked at a leisurely pace, making Carol anxious as she constantly had to wait for her to catch up. She realized Maria was waiting for her to talk, to explain the obscure fact that she felt incapable of sharing the last six years of her life with her best friend.

In the heat of action, facing life-or-death-level decisions, Carol was the one who could crack up a smile in the face of abysmal odds. She wished she had the same ability to laugh about the ghastly fact that for six years - well perhaps not that long as she spent most of them in training - she had been a murderer.

That was a fact Talos had never had to mention. There was an understanding between them, that both of them were guilty of crimes they would never be completely free of. She didn’t know if the Skrull soldiers under his command harbored any vengeful feelings about the things she’d done, but if they did, they didn’t show it.

Then there was the sorest of all the sore spots.

“He was my friend, or so I thought,” she said, tentative in her approach. “He never made me feel like I was a freak. Even if I realize now that every explanation he gave was a complete lie. He wanted me to be strong. He  _ wanted _ me to succeed.”

Maria listened, sometimes with a nod or hum in response. Carol found that once she had started, the words came with less effort,

“The Kree make no difference on men and women. What matters is what you’re capable of, what your potential is. Can you imagine going through BMT without a single sexist joke?” 

“Sounds literally like another planet,” Maria joked.

“I thought I was fighting to protect something that was solid, and good and important. And the weird thing, that I can’t wrap my head around, is that the Kree  _ are  _ good in some ways. Just not the most important ones.”

“Like democracy and free speech? Pretty fundamental, I’d say.”

"Well, yeah, there's that,” Carol agreed with emphasis. “I feel so stupid. All the signs were there. But I wanted to, I  _ chose  _ to believe him. I could have doubted anyone else, even the Supreme Intelligence. Just not him.” She kicked another rock. ”I have participated in a galactic genocide."

“You didn’t know.” 

Maria’s voice was firm and warm, pulling her out of the smothering guilt. Her friend held out her arms and Carol stepped into the offered embrace. Something pressed against her chest, growing painfully until it burbled out of her in the form of a tortured whimper. 

Maria said soothingly. “You know, what you’re going through isn’t unique for hybrid-human space soldiers with partial amnesia. There’s help to be had.”

Carol laughed and sniffed against her shoulder. “What, do you think I need a shrink?”

“What about a veteran organization? You don’t have to share; it’s possible to just listen to others.” Solid advice, as usual when it came from Maria.

“I guess, in a way, I’m still USAF.”

“Except you don’t need a plane to fly anymore.”

“Minor detail.” Carol grinned and took a step back, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands. “I think I want to be alone a little while. If you don’t mind.”

Maria nodded. “Whatever you need, love. I’m going to bed once I’m home, so I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight then.” Carol kissed Maria’s cheek. “And thank you.” Then she had a quick look around for witnesses before she took off towards the sky.

She wasn’t planning to go far. Just to feel the wind and the freedom and have a little time by herself. She ended up flying south, over the marshlands. There, she eventually landed on a jetty. She sat down on the edge, took off her shoes and dipped her feet in the water, splashing around for a little bit, not caring that her jeans got wet; she could dry them instantly whenever she wanted. Eventually she stilled, lay down on her back and looked at the sky. She wondered if any one of these stars was Hala’s, and if Earth’s sun was visible from the Kree capital.

There was danger in talking about Hala, she realized. It made her miss the simplicity. The easy choices. Now her life was full of impossible ones. Dangerous not to her perhaps, but everyone around her.

The night was hot and humid. Carol felt that her head was too full of thoughts to keep it all together, as if she attempted to stretch herself too thin over the impossible expanse between what had been and what was. Her usual bravado had watered out to leave a leaf thin shell of a human being, infinitely small despite her infinite power. 

The gentle lap of small waves against her feet was cool and soothing. She blinked.

Steps approached on the jetty. She bolted upright. She could hardly discern the figure that approached until its profile was visible against the water on the other side. Carol jumped to her feet. 

“Not possible,” she breathed. “You’re dead.”

“To most perhaps but apparently not to you,” Mar-vell replied with her signature wit.

“I’m dreaming.” Carol looked around for a sign to confirm her theory.

“Does it matter?” Mar-vell said bemused. “How are you?”

“Like shit,” she replied before she could stop herself.

“I see.” The older woman walked to the edge. “Why?”

“I don’t know who I am. Or what I should do with this power. Should I do what Veranke wants me to? To join a war against the Kree? Or not? What if I choose wrong?”

“War is never the answer,” Mar-vell stressed, her tone significantly sharper now.

“What of attacking someone who attacked you first? As a form of defence.”

“If Veranke manages to rally enough forces to take on the Kree Empire, who do you think will pay the price? Those who do the fighting, or those left on the ground? You have seen enough in your life here on Earth to know the answer I think.”

“Then what do I do?” Carol flapped her arms, walking to stand beside her former mentor. “What’s the point of this power if I’m not meant to use it?” It struck her that she'd asked the exact same thing to Yon-rogg one year ago.

Mar-vell smiled knowingly, as if this strange ghost of her knew it all. "Having power and  _ not  _ using it, is sometimes the strongest statement."

Carol sighed and sat down on the edge. The Kree’s eyes were on the horizon. 

“You’re doing good, ace. You will change everything, but not in the way you think.”

“So  _ something _ will happen but you won't say what?” Carol muttered.

“Sorry but the future is strictly non-disclosure for me at this point.” The playful glint was back in Mar-vell’s eyes. “And now it’s time for you to wake up.”

Carol opened her eyes. Dawn was breaking through at the horizon. Had she slept all night? She sat up and looked at her bare arms, thankful her Kree blood meant she was off the mosquitos’ menu. She took her shoes in one hand and took off.

When she got back, Maria met her in the door with a distressed look on her face.

“What’s up?” Carol asked.

“Come in and I’ll show you.” Maria led her inside, up the stairs and into the guest room where Carol’s Starforce uniform was tucked in under the bed. The right bracer stuck out and a blue signal beckoned on the wrist display. “It’s been doing that since I woke up this morning.”

“It’s a Starforce hail signal,” Carol said, unable to retract her gaze from the blue light. “It’s used to immediately call everyone back from a mission, in case of emergency. While a beacon has to be manually activated; the hail receiver can’t be switched off.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means that for some reason, Starforce  _ really _ wants to talk to me. And that they are somewhere nearby; the hail has limited range.” Carol lifted her uniform to take a closer look at the glyphs on the glowing display. “There’s coordinates. It’s on your property.”

“Where?”

Carol groaned. Of course; it was the only place Yon-rogg knew where to find her.

“The shed.”


	6. Homecoming

Carol sank down on the guest bed with the uniform in her lap, the hail signal casting a blue-green light on her face. Her mind raced through a multitude of theories about what could cause Starforce to seek her out.

They couldn’t capture her, she was confident of that. But if it wasn’t some kind of pathetic attempt to lure her back, what could it be?

Maria’s warm arm on her shoulders brought her back to the present. “Is there any way you could just call them and tell them to, you know…  _ GTFO _ ?”

“I  _ could _ do that,” Carol said. “Only… if they are tracking the signal that could give away our location. I couldn’t risk that.”

“What could that bastard possibly have to say to you?” Maria growled, moving her free hand animatedly.

“Oh? I thought he was my  _ ex-crush _ ?” Carol rose and began undressing, rummaging through the pile of discarded clothes for her towel.

Maria slumped. “Sorry,” she regretted. “That was mean. I was drunk.”

“I forgive you.” Carol kissed Maria on the forehead before she left the room. Starforce could wait ten minutes so that she could have a shower.

As the warm water ran down her body, Carol planted her palms and forehead against the tiles, closed her eyes and tried to center herself. She knew it had to be Yon-rogg who tried to contact her, because only he knew her location within such close proximity. It meant he was alive. And still with Starforce.

Conflicting emotions tugged her heart in every which direction. She slammed her hand against the tiles. One of them cracked. Carol drew in a sharp breath.

_ Control it.  _ She breathed through her teeth, slowly quelling the emotions.

When she was out of the shower she put on her uniform. For once in her life, Maria wasn’t handing out advice and for this Carol was thankful. They hugged before she left. “I’ll be back for coffee.”

She flew low, not wanting to offer any clue to the location of Maria’s house, should they be looking. She landed on the jetty adjoining the shed. According to the hail, the source of the signal was only a short distance from here.

The door was slightly ajar. Carol approached it with thundering heart and shallow breathing.

When she was just a few steps away, the door cracked open.

“Att-lass!?”

She felt like her lungs imploded.

Her former team mate looked cautious, but his pistols were still in their holsters.

_ Where’s Yon-rogg? _ she wanted to ask.  _ Is he alive? Is he here? _

“I know you’re not Kree.” Att-lass hesitated. He looked at her like she was a feral animal, ready to tear him to pieces any moment. “Yon-rogg told us everything.”

That lit the fuse. Carol snarled, “I bet he did, huh? About how Mar-vell ‘misled and used’ me? About how the whole lie that was my life, in fact was just an ‘unfortunate misunderstanding?’” She began to glow.

Fast as lightning, Att-lass grabbed his pistols, aiming at her with hands shaking.

“And now, he ordered  _ you _ to meet me?” She closed in on him with sparks jumping from her hands. “Well, if Yon-rogg has something to say, tell him to summon the spine to say it himself!” The last bit she spat out while baring her teeth.

“Please.” Att-lass slowly lowered his pistols, backing away from her. “Listen to me. This is not what you think it is.”

She raised her head an increment. “What is it, then?”

“We need your help. People are getting slaughtered by creatures called drocs, that appeared in our colonies, seemingly out of nowhere. We can’t fight them conventionally. Millions have already died.”

Carol’s breath was caught in her throat. Her power display faded. Att-lass looked pained. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a ruse.

Att-lass continued, “The drocs carry a virus that mutates Kree into one of them. We’ve been given three days to find you, or the Accusers will begin bombing all infected colonies.”

“How long?” she said.

“Twenty-six hours. Estimated travel time to Caal system is twenty-two.”

Carol turned and walked until she stood at the edge of the jetty, facing the marsh. “I’ll take my own ship,” she declared over her shoulder, “and meet you in orbit. Tell Yon-rogg I won’t call him Commander, and I won’t take his orders. I’ll help the evacuation of the colonies, then I will return home and anyone who tries to stop me will be burned to ash. Understood?”

“I’ll tell him.”

“Oh, and one more thing.” Carol turned around with her arms crossed. “I want none of your Kree bullshit about the Skrulls or Mar-vell or anything associated with it. One word, and I’m off.”

She could see her words angered him but didn’t care. He was just a victim of the same epic brainwash as every other Kree soldier.

She lifted from the jetty and took off at high velocity through the forest. Back at Maria’s house, she rushed through the door only to find Maria, Monica and Maria’s parents, Ma and Vern, in the hallway.

She looked at them, then down at her uniform.

“Carol, how nice to see you,” Vern said, bewilderingly eyeing her attire. “We came a little earlier. Maria just said you were away and we were so sorry to have missed you. We have heard about your time in North Korea. What an awful business.”

“Hi,” Carol breathed, looking at Maria with panic in her eyes.

Monica stepped into the middle of the situation, making a wide arm gesture to get everyone’s attention. “Isn’t it great!” she said and pointed at Carol’s uniform. “We painted an old motorcycle set. Me and Carol.”

“We didn’t know you had a motorcycle?” Ma said with a confused brow.

“I… don’t,” Carol said with no conviction at all. “I was just going to get one. In fact. But we got the suit first. Safety first and all.” She looked at Monica, mouthing  _ ‘thanks’ _ .

Maria managed to move her parents to the kitchen for some coffee. Carol whimpered at the smell and looked pleadingly at Monica. “I’m gonna fetch some stuff from my room. If you could ask your mom for a pack of instant coffee for me, you are indirectly saving millions of lives far away in space. OK?”

“You’re going away again,” Monica stated disappointingly.

“Many, many lives are at stake this time.” She gave the girl a quick hug. Then she rushed up the stairs to fetch her satchel and a small pack into which she stuffed her most comfortable casual wear, a pile of underwear, a towel and some bathroom essentials.

On her way down she met Maria. Her friend held out a jar of instant coffee.

Carol embraced her, whispering, “Turns out it was really serious. I have to help.”

Maria pushed the coffee jar into her hand. “Don’t let him get to you.”

They exchanged tight smiles and Maria stepped aside so she could pass.

Carol gave Monica another hug and called out a goodbye to Vern and Ma before going out the back door. As soon as she was out of their line of sight, she took off towards Atlanta.

***

Yon-rogg was in the cockpit of the Aegis, impatiently watching the hail transmitter. They had waited in orbit for one hour. So far, the plan had worked.

Sending Att-lass to meet Vers was a deliberate decision, because while Att-lass had been a friend, he was blameless of any deception. In fact, Att-lass’s shock at the news of Vers’s true origin had been most palpable. 

The proximity signal came in just before he saw the ship; a small shuttle class personnel transport. _ What a junk heap _ , he thought and shook his head. The shuttle aligned itself with the Aegis. A moment later, a strange noise resounded from the ship’s starboard side. It took a moment before he realized that it was Vers, banging on the hatch. Her voice came in on his comm:

“ _ Open the airlock, idiot.” _

He did.

Not half a minute later, Vers, in her grotesque uniform, stood in the Aegis assembly area. Yon-rogg rose from the seat and positioned himself on the step just above, arms crossed over his chest.

He had rehearsed this moment so many times during the last two days, it felt like it had already happened. But for some reason, in his mind, she had always worn Kree colors. It was disheartening but a healthy reminder to see how that wasn’t the case.

“Do you accept my terms?” was the first thing she said. Sassy as always.

He trained his voice to sound neutral. “Clarify that?” 

“No titles. No orders. No bullshit.” She held up a glowing fist to enforce her words. At the same time, and probably subconsciously, she raised her head and jutted her chin forward.

He had to look at her. She was still glorious. Still overwhelming. Still infuriating.

At least one of them would have to behave like an adult for this to work. “I accept your terms. But since you insisted on bringing that -” he cocked his head in the direction of the scrap heap outside ”- we might not make it to Caal in time. So I suggest we skip the pleasantries and get a move on.”

***

Carol shrugged, keeping her tone light, “Fine by me.” She extinguished the flame around her fist. “What jump point?”

“0X1B-41.” Yon-rogg was already turning towards the pilot seat as he spoke. “And then set course for 0C2R-69. Six hours travel time in between; I’ll brief you on the situation then.”

She remained still for a moment, taking in his dimly lit profile as he began preparing the ship for the jump. A year ago, she would have taken the copilot seat and cracked some bad joke to tease a smile out of him.

His disinterest stung. She had expected anger and resentment. She would have preferred it.

On her way to starboard airlock hatch, she met Bron-char and Att-lass. The pair blocked her way to the airlock. They locked gazes for a moment, before Carol awkwardly pushed past her former comrades. Their avoidance said everything.

Back on the Chevy she set the jump point coordinates and fetched her Garfield thermos cup to make herself some coffee. This was going to be a long trip.

On her subsequent visit to the Aegis, Carol felt the scene that played out in the assembly area was an eerie, hollow echo of her previous life. 

Starforce had lost its two newest members on the recon mission that preceded the bombardment of Caal. That left Ta-rinn as the only new face to Carol. The ‘new Minn-erva’, as Carol thought of her, was a plain-looking, petite woman with none of her predecessor's poisonous edge.  _ Thank goodness for that. _

Bron-char’s familiar, hulking form seemed less imposing than before. She smiled at the memory of him actually warning her of his impending pinball attack on the Mar-vell. He was a protector, it went against his instincts to hurt one of his own. To Carol’s right was Att-lass. He too was someone she would wish she had on  _ her _ team. Korath must have been promoted, or chosen for some other position, since Att-lass now wore the second-in-command insignia. Another thing to be thankful for.

What made the scene so jarring, was the fact that Yon-rogg somehow managed to go through the entire briefing without addressing her with as much as a look. It annoyed her to distraction.

Once the talk was done and the hologram gone, Carol remained on her spot, eyes locked on Yon-rogg. Bron-char shifted uncomfortably where he stood and muttered, “Commander”, before leaving. Ta-rinn said something about the weapons locker and disappeared as well. Att-lass went to take the Aegis’s controls, which left only Carol and Yon-rogg.

He stood in front of the steps to the cockpit, weight balanced between his feet, eyes trained on something behind her. She raised her head an increment. An awkward amount of time passed while neither of them budged.

She told herself it was for the sake of the mission; they couldn’t work together if he insisted on ignoring her. His apparent disregard was obviously a ruse meant to unsettle her. He meant to have her clawing at his stony facade for a sign of recognition. And ironically, that was exactly what she was doing right now. Which made it even more imperative to coax a reaction from him.

“My name is Carol,” she finally said. “In case you were wondering.”

He dampened his lip with his tongue, breathed in through his teeth, his jaw making a minuscule movement as if he was about to speak. She held her breath. For the briefest moment their eyes met. Then he walked away, leaving her with her breath stuck in her throat.

Carol let out the air she’d been holding. What was she doing? Entertaining his petulance and wounded pride? Bashing her need for closure against him like the foaming waves against the rocks?

She returned to the Chevy and switched on the communicator. It would be possible for her to use the Aegis’s; all she needed to do was ask for access and add her signal code to it. But considering that the recipients of her calls were mostly Skrulls, that wasn’t an option.

***

It was evening on their new home planet.

Talos stepped outside the newly erected modular home and drew in a whiff of fresh air. They had chosen a spot high up with a view of the sea far below. Beneath the group of temporary houses, his daughter played with some of the other younglings.

Today, a hundred and twenty Skrulls had arrived and were busy setting up their own modular homes a short distance away. The new arrivals were part of a refugee group Talos had kept in touch with ever since the mission on Torfa. They had remained hidden mid space, waiting for good news.

The Mar-vell was perched on a hill above. The Kree cruiser dwarfed the rudimentary settlement with its enormity.

“Talos!” Soren came walking up the slope, encumbered by the weight of her backpack. He went to meet her and relieved her off the extra weight, although she had already carried it all the way here.

“I found a new type of algae in the hot springs,” she said excitedly. 

On her advice, he had made the decision not to introduce new species before they had evaluated already existing flora and fauna and its nutrient potential. Her dedication to the task seemed endless, he had noted with admiration. In war, he was the leader. In peace, he was comfortable in her shadow.

“How are the new arrivals doing?” she asked as they stepped inside the door.

Talos didn’t have time to answer because they both startled as the communicator on the table signalled an incoming call. He looked at the signal code. “It’s Carol,” he smiled and opened the call.

_ “Can’t believe I’m so lucky to catch you both at the same time!”  _ she cheered as both of them appeared as holograms on her end.  _ “How are things?” _

Soren spoke first. “I’m just starting the surveys but it looks very promising. And everyone is so happy just to stand on solid ground for once.”

Talos filled in with a grin. “And I’m redundant but glad to be so.”

Carol chuckled, but then her smile fell.  _ “Something serious has happened. Someone has found or created an organism that feeds of Kree. Civilians are dead in the millions. No one knows where it came from.” _

As the details of the situation were rolled out to them, Talos watched Soren’s expression change from concern, to sadness and eventually to anger.

“So… the drocs are Kree, but changed?” Talos said.

Carol clarified,  _ “No, the virus mutates their bodies  _ into  _ drocs. There’s nothing left of the Kree. I don’t have any images to show you but if I could, you’d know what I mean.”  _

She was silent for a moment and her gaze fell.  _ “I know it’s not right to ask this,”  _ she hesitated, _ “but I could really use Soren’s help on this one. I can only help fight those things and evacuate the colonies but to figure this out I need… astrobiology.” _

“Where are you now?” Talos asked apprehensively.

_ “You aren’t going to believe me,”  _ Carol said with an eyeroll. _ “I’m with Starforce.” _

“Starforce?!” they both exclaimed at the same time.

_ “Yep. I feel the same way.” _ She shook her head and shrugged.  _ “But I couldn’t not help. Millions of civilians are trapped on those planets.” _

“Do you have any analysis equipment available?” Soren asked with a sharp tone that left no room for Talos’s objections.

_ “Starforce has a field lab.” _

“Then get a DNA sample and a trace element analysis. Transmit the data and I’ll help you from there.”

_ “Thank you.” _

***

Once Carol closed the call, Soren saw her mate’s expression darken.

“Since when are we helping those who have almost made our people extinct?” Talos growled.

“Since it’s the right thing to do,” she retorted calmly.

Talos leaned back on his folding chair, his body tense and restless. He rose and stomped across the room to the door, from where he could watch the younglings outside. She allowed him a moment to process.

“I’m just offering to make an analysis,” she reminded him.

“I know you much too well to believe it’s going to end with just that,” he grumbled.

“Perhaps.” She rose and walked to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, leaning her face against his neck. “Perhaps, at times, I’m as stubborn as you’ll ever be. Rogue General Talos.”

He snorted. “Perhaps?” She felt the rumble of his voice through his chest.

They watched their daughter and her friends play on the lichen covered planes. The planet’s ice rings, colored purple and pink from the setting sun, reflected in the ocean below.

“I want to call it Skrullos,” Talos said.

“No. That would be strange,” Soren objected.

“Skrullos II then.”

She groaned.

“Soren,” he whispered.

“Yes?”

“No, I meant we could call it that. After you. It’s mother.”

She wasn’t good at receiving honors. She squeezed him a little harder.

“Planet  _ Soren _ ,” he said.


	7. Old wounds

When the Chevy exited from the last jump point, Carol was met by the view of a Kree fleet awaiting their arrival. Almost all of the ships were transportation vessels. In the middle of the fleet was a battle cruiser, dwarfed in size only by the three Accuser warships looming above. She recognized Ronan's ship, the  _ Silver Aster _ , among them.

Att-lass’s voice appeared on her comm, informing her they were going to travel the last stretch onboard the  _ Nemesis _ . That was the name of the battle cruiser commanded by Admiral On-sar. Carol steered the Chevy along the Aegis into a wide hangar opening. The landing gear touched the hangar floor and she switched off her ship’s power. The Kree warrior in her felt like she was returning to something familiar. Her terran half whipped her to stay cautious and regard everyone she met as an enemy.

Carol stepped out through the hatch. The hangar was empty except for a small team of Kree warriors, fronted by a blue-skinned woman wearing combat armor. Admiral On-sar, Carol assumed. On the other side of the hangar, Yon-rogg had just exited the Aegis and was walking towards the Admiral. Carol lifted off the floor and dashed ahead of him, startling the warriors into raising their weapons. She touched down on the floor in front of them with a content smirk. The warriors glanced nervously at each other and at their commanding officer.

Admiral On-sar assessed Carol with an unfazed expression. The Kree had a stout figure, resolute face and black, graying hair. Carol wondered if she knew about the events that occurred above Earth roughly a year ago, though it would seem likely the Supreme Intelligence had ordered a cover up.

“Captain Marvel,” On-sar said with a courteous nod. “I am aware you are not on amicable terms with our Empire. On what grounds have you agreed to help us now?”

The bluntness of the question surprised Carol, though she realized it made sense for On-sar to inquire on the matter of her loyalties. “My allegiances are not determined by the borders of your Empire,” she said, “I would protect civilians regardless of race or nation.”

On-sar’s eyes narrowed. “One of our Empire’s most dreaded enemies, Skrull General Talos, is your ally. How will your actions here reflect on your standing with him?”

Before Carol could reply, Yon-rogg intervened, raising his voice to bridge the remaining distance between himself and On-sar. “As I informed you, Admiral, we respectfully agreed not to discuss the terrorists.”

On-sar’s eyes flashed with annoyance at him before her iron gaze snapped back to Carol. “Very well. If the Supreme Intelligence has faith in you, then so do I. As of this moment, we are on route towards Marra and expect to be there in one hour. The Supreme Intelligence tells me you can do what my ground forces couldn’t, but offered no details aside from that. Explain your abilities, and we can make a plan from there.”

_ So she doesn’t know,  _ Carol thought and glanced sideways at Yon-rogg who by now stood alongside her. _ Go on, tell her,  _ she silently urged him.

He met her gaze and made a small nod towards On-sar.

Carol took a heated breath. Still looking at Yon-rogg, she declared, “I broke out of the Supreme Intelligence’s simulation.” Yon-rogg’s eyes bore into hers and his jaw tensed as she went on. “I blew up two dozen ballistic missiles and a platoon of fighter ships in space. And I destroyed an Accuser warship. With my hands.” She turned her gaze to On-sar, who by now looked utterly struck, and added coolly, “Among other things. Will that suffice?” 

On-sar, to her credit, quickly recomposed. “It will. Commander, follow me.”

When Yon-rogg passed her, Carol grabbed his arm and whispered, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” He flinched and janked himself from her grip. “That sensitive?” she purred as he retreated.

Carol looked after them as they disappeared through the doors. It didn’t bother her that On-sar hadn’t asked her to come as well. She was more than satisfied after seeing Yon-rogg almost self combust from effort to keep himself poised. Now that she knew she had the upper hand information-wise, the opportunities for retaliation against him were endless.

***

Twenty minutes from Marra, it was time to board the Aegis. Carol had reluctantly agreed to leave the Chevy, being forced to admit that having an unmanned vessel drifting in orbit during a planetary mass evacuation wasn’t the best idea.

When everyone was in the assembly area, Yon-rogg brought up a hologram of Marra. The drocs were visible as a purple mass spread across most of its surface, save for a sliver of land in the northern hemisphere. 

Carol leaned against the wall with her arms crossed while Yon-rogg explained the plan he and On-Sar had come up with. Her task was simple; stay on ground level and blast away any and all threats to the evacuation transports. Starforce would be her eyes in the sky and provide sniper cover when possible, while staying onboard the Aegis.

The briefing ended as it always did, with a ’For the good of all Kree’. The team repeated the words. Carol, of course, was silent.

Everyone dispersed to their separate corners, to make adjustments to their gear or whatever they needed to do during the last minutes before deployment.

Carol walked to the portside dorm. There she found Att-lass sitting on his bunk. It was the exact same place as it had been on the Helion. He was busy adjusting the sniper rifle he would be using, and looked up with a watchful expression as she appeared.

She leaned against the doorpost. “You’re not scared of me still, are you?” She tried to make it sound casual, like one of their old friendly banters.

Att-lass was serious. “No. You could have killed all of us, but didn’t. Why?”

Carol looked down. “I understand if you’re mad about...”

He cut her off. “I’m  _ confused _ ,” he corrected. “I don’t care if you’re Terran or Kree, Car-ol. What I don’t understand is why you turned on us. We were your friends. Hala was your home.”

Carol groaned exasperatedly. “Actually, that’s just how you and especially Yon-rogg interprets things, because your worldview happens to be as black and white as a child’s fairy tale.” Att-lass flinched as she began to move her hands while she spoke. She stilled them, breathing in through her nose to quell her frustration. “I never turned on _you_. I only did what I had to do to save my family and my friends. The Supreme Intelligence is the true evil here, can’t you see that?”

He looked at her like she was an unhinged maniac with a bomb belt. She sighed and tilted her head back against the doorpost. The sound of steps made Att-lass startle.

Yon-rogg appeared in the doorway. “Att-lass, join Ta-rinn on the controls.” He took a step back from the door to give Att-lass space to retreat.

His voice was level, but she could see the tension on his face, the slight shifting of his weight forward that always occurred when he was agitated. “If you have something to say, say it to  _ me _ .”

“I have nothing to say to you.” She dismissed him with a shrug and made a move to leave.

His palm hit the wall with an acute bang, his arm now blocking her path. “Then don’t push your misconceptions on my team.  _ I’m  _ in charge here. So if you have something to say about the Supreme Intelligence, or  _ me,  _ or the…” It obviously took every bit of self-control he had to stop himself from saying ‘ _ Skrulls’ _ .

She could easily have pushed him aside, plastered him against the wall, and walked away, but his vehemence stirred her. In more ways than one.

She wanted to fight him. To do exactly what he had tried to taunt her into when they had faced off in the desert. To unleash her indignation, her disappointment in him, with her fists and knees. To press him into the hard floor panels and force the truth from his lips.

“Say it,” Yon-rogg commanded. “Whatever it is that you need to get out of your system,  _ say it _ , and make it fast, because we are now exactly...” he looked briefly on the time keeper, “five minutes from Marra.”

“’ _ Out of my system?’” _ she scoffed and looked incredulously at him. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? You lied to me for six years. The Supreme Intelligence is an evil piece of shit circuitry but you…  _ you _ …” she fumed, not knowing what to say next, how to decompress the complex mix of disdain, attraction, betrayal and longing. “I don’t even know where to start. You… murdered Mar-vell, and made me believe you were everything she was; strong, fearless and fighting for a just cause.”

He leaned close. “Because I  _ am _ all those things, Vers.”

“Carol!” she snarled.

“… Carol,” he rectified. “I was  _ merciful _ to Mar-vell. Had I followed orders and brought her back to Hala, her fate would have been far worse.”

“Bullshit. You shot her because she was about to destroy the core. Say it as it is.”

He looked at her with disbelief, eyes narrow, mouth slightly open the way it was when he was searching for words. “I  _ saved _ you.”

“Stole me. You  _ stole  _ me.”

“I gave you my blood _.” _

Carol charged herself up and swiped his hand off the wall like it was just an annoyance, walking past him towards the assembly area.

“That sensitive?” he asked, a hint of victory in his voice.

She spun around, now entirely ablaze. The temptation to punch him through the hull of the ship was far more real than she could have imagined before agreeing to this mission.

Yon-rogg walked slowly towards her, speaking with intent and purpose. “I can  _ accept _ that you and I will never agree on most political matters. I  _ understand _ that you feel betrayed by me for concealing the truth of your origin, but...”

He halted one step away from her, took a breath and licked his lips.  _ He does that when he is nervous _ , she thought.

“Never doubt the fact that it was _my_ _choice_ to save you. To give you _my blood_ so that you could survive with all that power in your body. I made you a better version of yourself, regardless what you make out of that.” He shook his head at the end, clearly in doubt of whether she would believe him.

Carol didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. This self indulgent performance from her former abductor was simply priceless. Before she could respond, the time-keeper beeped. It was time to go.

“So you keep telling me,” she snapped and pushed him in the chest so that he stumbled backwards.

Carol strode through the ship to the rear hatch and lowered the ramp without asking for clearance. The wind whipped against her and the light coming from the outside almost blinded her for a moment.

They were descending through clouds colored pink by the red sun. She jumped out, at first falling in tandem with the Aegis but soon accelerating past it. Below the clouds were the vast plains of Marra’s northern hemisphere. To the north was a massive ice wall, whose movement back and forth over the decades had ground the landscape into a smooth surface with some larger rocks spread across it. Across Carol’s view, a myriad of transports, some earthbound, some hovering and some aerial, were speeding towards the evacuation zone. Hopefully, the vast open area would give Carol and Starforce a small advantage.

The drocs were in fast pursuit, moving from the south in a wall of dust. The creatures moved at terrifying speed, using their tentacles to roll across the ground. Behind them was a trail of destruction; the transports and people who had been too late, or too slow.

Carol dove towards them, throwing out an array of blasts in their way, leaving holes that filled up almost immediately. She summoned even more power between her hands, willing the ray to fan out, blasting the ground across a wider range. The pressure built up inside her and she released it into an explosion that disintegrated every single droc. She let out a breath as the dust settled and no more drocs appeared behind it.

The comm came alive. It was Att-lass.  _ “Something’s happening on 520-161. Ground’s moving.” _

Carol checked her navigation for coordinates, then flew towards the location. Dust was stirred up and the ground heaved like water. Black tentacles emerged. She sent a blast, killing the four drocs that emerged.

“I think you forgot to mention they go underground,” she snapped.

She thought she heard Yon-rogg open and close the comm, as if considering a retaliation for her superfluous remark, but instead he said,  _ “Another on 558-120. Bron-char and Ta-rinn, anything on your visual?” _

“ _ Nothing yet,”  _ Ta-rinn replied.  _ “No, wait – 411-480. Two of them.” _

_ Shit, they are surrounding the evac zone,  _ Carol thought.

“Little help here,” she panted, bewilderedly looking in every direction. “Where are those damn transports?”

“ _ Two minutes out,” _ Yon-rogg informed her. “ _ You can do this. Keep focused. 558-120.” _

As much as she wanted to scoff at his encouragement, it  _ did _ spur her on. That part of their relationship was too deeply engraved in her, and right now she needed his cool-headed assessment.

They continued in similar fashion; Carol flying criss-cross, killing off drocs as they appeared on Starforce’s scopes.

The transports eventually came and civilians began streaming inside. As soon as one transport left ground, it was replaced by another. Admiral On-sar had insisted on not keeping more than two ships grounded at the same time in case the plan would fail.

Eventually, the last civilian equipage got onboard and when that transport was safely in the air, Carol turned her attention towards her second, secret objective. She cleared an area of living drocs with a wide spread blast – much easier now when she didn’t have to consider fleeing civilians. Finding a dead droc wasn’t hard, either. Using a tiny scalpel, she cut out a piece and put the black, fleshy substance into a test tube. She then shot from the ground towards the Aegis.

***

Yon-rogg crawled to the edge of the Aegis’s bow maintenance hatch. He hoisted the sniper rifle in front of himself and opened its scope.  The exchange with Carol echoed in his head. He shouldn’t let her drag him down to her level, to be so  _ emotional _ as he had been. He was making a fool of himself, endangering their mission and his people for it. He dragged a hand over his face, rubbing the skin around his eyes.  _ Focus _ .  He gripped his rifle tightly, peering through the scope at the events below.

Things seemed to go smoothly at first. Carol blasted the pursuing drocs. Yon-rogg sent confirmation to command that it was safe for the transports to land. That was when the drocs began appearing from underground. Carol’s desperation was palpable; she couldn’t see everything that was happening across the vast plains.

“You can do this,” he told her with steady conviction. “Keep focused.” The same words he had uttered a thousand times. It still worked. He kept repeating the coordinates as new drocs appeared, making the call on which was most urgent. Carol kept it up with unrelenting speed and force for the hour it took to get all survivors from the mining colony onto the transports.

There were losses, of course. It was impossible to avoid. Sometimes a droc would appear beneath a group of refugees, swallowing them and their vehicles into the ground. But there was no denying that without Carol, extracting the survivors would have been a fruitless struggle.

When the last transport lifted through the clouds, Yon-rogg immediately ordered everyone inside, closed the hatch and crawled backwards out from the tight passage. He went to the cockpit, took the pilot seat and began preparing them to get moving again. Their next stop was Bakka. It was located in the same star system but further from the jump point.

_ “I’m inside,”  _ Carol curtly informed.

_ “All set,”  _ Att-lass confirmed on his end on behalf of the rest of the team.

Yon-rogg accelerated the Aegis upwards. When they left atmosphere, things went quiet inside the ship. Att-lass appeared and took the co-pilot chair. Neither of them spoke. As soon as they were on a steady route towards Bakka, traveling alongside the Nemesis, Yon-rogg engaged the autopilot.

“Go rest. Briefing in one hour.” he ordered Att-lass. The other nodded and he was once again alone. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t fall asleep, just keep himself on the verge, allowing his mind and body to rest without losing his sense of the surroundings. The memories came as always. The convict, struggling against his grip. Carol’s blank expression as the casket lid closed. He flinched and opened his eyes.

“Commander.“ Ta-rinn stood beside him. She looked concerned. “Car-ol is using the field lab at the med station. Did you authorize this? She wouldn’t say, just told me to… beat it.” She said the last bit with a confused brow.

He sighed. “That means ‘go away’. And no, I didn’t authorize anything. Take the controls.”

He walked astern and stopped in the doorway to the med station. Carol was still there, using the terminal for the bioanalyzer. She looked over her shoulder at him. “Hi. I’m running some tests on droc tissue.”

Yon-rogg’s blood froze. “You what?!”

“I brought a piece of a droc and I put it in the analyzer to see what it’s made up of,” she clarified with mock indulgence and removed a memory unit from the terminal. “There. All done.” She moved to the door but he blocked her way. “Really?” she sighed exasperatedly, “This, again?”

“What will you do with that?” He pointed at the memory unit.

“Well, since you ask; I’m going to send the data to a scientist who has promised to help. Oh, and I almost forgot! Just to be on the safe side...” She spun around, opened the hatch to the analyzer and picked out a test tube with a black, sticky matter inside. A swift, heated blast immediately disintegrating its contents. “We wouldn’t want the Accusers to know we brought a highly contagious alien substance onboard the Aegis,“ she said smoothly, “Who knows what they’d do then?”

“That  _ we _ brought..?” he repeated her words with a skeptical brow.

“They don’t care who did,” she stated matter-of-factly. “You’re in  _ charge _ , right?”

She moved to the door again. And he blocked her way again.

“I’m not letting you send that data to an outsider.” He was well aware of how powerless he was against her but he couldn’t back away when her foolhardiness put his people at risk.

“And how, exactly, do you intend to stop me?” She raised her eyebrows. “You asked for my help. I’m giving it to you – on my terms.”

The blast came, as he knew it would. Panting after the impact, he dragged himself to his feet at the same time he heard the airlock close behind her.

This could only end badly. 


	8. Clash

Another planet was off the list. On-sar’s fleet had left Caal system and was now covering a three hour stretch between jump points.

The agricultural colony on Bakka was already wiped out by the time they got there. The few survivors had hidden in a bunker and were extracted after Carol had blasted the drocs on the surface. 

Then was when it truly dawned on Carol, that every hour spent traveling meant the difference between life and death for countless people. She felt guilty for insisting on bringing the Chevy, and she decided to leave it in the Nemeis’s hangar for the remainder of the mission. She was still able to get away from Yon-rogg’s mistrustful glares and use her own communication transmitter, but without stalling the rest of the fleet. And there were other advantages, too.

Her belly growled for something other than instant noodles, biscuits and coffee. Shortly after the jump from Caal system, Carol left the hangar and navigated to the Kree equivalent of a mess hall. Everyone she encountered backed away; word traveled fast on the Nemesis.

She found the rations distribution where everyone, on a semi daily basis, fetched their bags of freeze dried food, protein bars, and vitamin boosts. The queue parted around her. Standing in front of the counter, she looked expectantly at the Kree soldier who was currently on rations duty. He stared dumbfoundedly at her.

Carol woke him from his stupor with a _what-are-you-waiting-for-_ look, flicking her hands to indicate she expected to be allotted. With hurried movements, he loaded her hands with a stack of rations. She eyed the contents swiftly, lips pouting disappointedly. “No malber bars?” He handed her thee. “Thank you,” she beamed, turned around and walked out the same way she came.

As entertaining as this was, her walk through the Nemesis took an unexpected toll. Her cheeky speech about how she had destroyed an Accuser warship _with her hands_ had been funny enough at the time. It wasn’t nearly as funny once the thought emerged of every Kree soldier she had killed on that ship. Had she not had a choice? Had she not already proven she was capable of countering anything Ronan threw at her? The afterthought terrified her.

Being so distracted, she didn’t notice the apparent change in scenery in the hangar. She was halfway across when she noticed the Aegis on the far end, with the team waiting outside. Yon-rogg said something to the others after which he split from them and walked towards her. He strode fast in order to intersect her.

“What do you want?” she snapped. Yon-rogg eyed her stack of rations curiously, picking a malber bar from the top. She shrugged. “I need calories like everyone else.”

“I think we got off to a bad start,” he said, opened the bar and took a bite.

“Oh, you think so?” The stack toppled when Carol snatched back the bar from him. She cursed as she attempted to keep hold on the food. “Well, you’re not exerting yourself to make me hate you less.” 

“I think it would be a good idea if we spoke,” he continued, looking bemusedly at her struggle, catching a bag that slipped her grasp.

They stopped by the Chevy. Carol snorted, “About what?” She balanced her stack on one hand as she dialed the code on the side of the door. Finally, for the hatch to open, she had to slam her fist against the frame. The action caused two more ration packs to escape her grasp.

Yon-rogg shook his head in wonder, then bent down and picked up the bags from the floor. “About the reason you despise me so vigorously, for example.” 

She wished he would go back to ignoring her. 

“I don’t want to talk to you for that long,” she muttered and stepped inside.

Vers had been orderly. So had Carol, in her previous life as a fighter pilot. Maria had informed her of the latter with some frustration. Therefore, Carol assumed the current state of unravel in every living space she occupied was the result of lack of routines and superiors. The Chevy was no exception. The shuttle had been fitted with a table, a stool and a couch which served as a bed. A tank of drinking water stood in a corner and a tiny washroom using circulated water was crammed in the back. All surfaces were littered with clothes, technical parts, tools, and comics among other things. Here and there was the odd coffee stain. Carol sighed at the view and navigated gingerly across the floor.

Yon-rogg entered unbidden.

She glared at him over her shoulder. “Do you want another blast or what?” She dropped the ration packs into a basket beside the table but kept the already opened bar and a bag of freeze dried something. Taking a bite off the bar, she examined the ration pack, speaking while chewing. “I don’t recognize this. What is it?”

He walked closer, squinted at the glyphs in the dim light, shook his head and handed her one of the bags he was carrying, instead. The remaining two he dropped in the basket.

She took his advice, emptied the ration pack into a metal bowl and poured some water on. She took a spoon from the table and stirred the mix while gently heating it. “So speak. What is it that you need to get ‘out of your system’?” Contrary to her expectation, he smiled. She froze and eyed him suspiciously. “You’re smiling. Sure you’re not a Skrull?”

Yon-rogg did his classic _‘really, Vers?’_ -expression that marked every time he thought she made an inappropriate or just really dumb joke. She ignored him, looking at the ceiling while searching her memory, absently placing her bowl on the table. “LPW-08-XT75. Can’t believe I remember that.”

“ _I_ believe it.” He clasped his hands behind his back, standing at ease. “But we don’t use codes anymore, so ask away, if you want to be sure.” She couldn’t tell if he was serious or just messing with her. Or maybe he was actually going to play ball.

“Alright.” She chewed her lower lip as she thought. “Who did I see when I spoke to the Supremor?”

He looked away, his posture tensing notably. She wasn’t sure if it was the subject being the woman he had murdered, or the Supreme Intelligence. “The trai… Mar-vell,” he hissed.

Carol wondered how much discomfort she could squeeze out of him before he broke off the game. “Who was I before you abducted me?”

That one wasn’t hard, it seemed, because his shoulders relaxed. He smiled wryly, the humorous glint in his eye returning. “A crack pilot, as I recall.”

The human expression made her smile; he had picked that up from her. Her hostility forgotten for the moment, she added softly, “I almost got you. What would have happened if I had?”

“Then neither of us would be here today.”

More questions were lining up in her mind. Answers she needed, but didn’t dare ask for, fearing they might topple her shallow sense of self. Or worse, threaten the comfort she had in regarding him as the enemy. Curiosity pushed against reluctance until the latter was forced back one step. “Why didn’t you shoot me?”

Yon-rogg seemed oblivious to her internal struggle. “As noble warrior heroes, we don’t harm civilians. You know that.”

She resisted the impulse to roll her eyes at his naivety. “But I wasn’t a civilian. I was a US air force pilot and prepared to die for my nation.”

“Yes, you were.” Yon-rogg spoke with the composed intensity only he could summon. The one that used to make her knees weaken and her stomach flutter. “And that courage made me want you on _my_ side. The _right_ side.”

She snorted, “Except you’re not on the right side.” When he didn’t retort, she grabbed her bowl and began to eat, instantly recognizing the taste of Hala cuisine, with its emphasis on sea food and a wasabi-esque seasoning.

She briefly closed her eyes and made a satisfied noise, clinking her spoon against the bowl. “This is good.”

Interpreting her change of subject as a time-out between them, Yon-rogg turned his attention to the surroundings. He walked to the dashboard and studied the instruments, briefly touching the control wheel. ”This ship is unfit for warfare,” he declared factually. “Does it even have shielding?”

“I’m touched by your concern,” she said with her mouth full.

***

Yon-rogg threw a sideward glance at the comm on the dashboard. Below it was a barely closed panel with a jumble of cables inside. Likely a makeshift modification. That’s where he would have to aim for. The bugging device was a slim, gray, magnetic disc. Easy to miss, but Carol would recognize the standard Starforce equipment if he didn’t place it out of sight.

And right now she eyed him like a predator watched the prey. He had to distract her.

The wall beside the pilot seat had pictures on it. He examined them with interest. He recognized the woman on one of them; she had been on Mar-vell’s cruiser. Then there was a picture of a young Terran with the same brown skin as the woman, an elderly couple, and a flerken. “Who are they?” he asked.

“None of your business seeing as you saw it fit to have them all murdered,” Carol snapped, but walked closer, still eating. He stalled; it often worked to just give her a moment. “That’s Maria,” she said, pointing with the spoon. “And Monica. And the old couple are Maria’s parents. They’re my family. The flerken’s name is Goose, but you’ve met her.”

“A flerken isn’t a pet,” he commented seriously, tapping his finger at the picture of the creature stretching on someone’s bed cover. “It’s a powerful asset and must be handled with care.”

“Like me, then? No wonder Goose and I get along so well.” She took a step forward and reached across him to put the now empty bowl on the dashboard. He tried to not glance disapprovingly at it. 

Her hair brushed against his chin as she straightened. Both stilled as they realized how close they were, crammed in the small space between the chair and the photo wall.

“Carol…” he began, not knowing what to say. What did he want to say? I wish you didn’t hate me? Do you feel the same?

She looked intently at him, studying, waiting. But she didn’t move away. He swallowed, afraid to do anything that might ruin the moment. Whatever it was. Then her hands moved to his sides, fingers clutching the thick fabric of his uniform, and pulled him against her. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. 

He didn't know who took initiative, only that as soon as their lips brushed, his entire body exploded with want. He pulled his gloves off and tangled his hands in her hair, grabbing fistfuls of it. She wasn’t gentle either. They kissed like they argued, a fervent clash of wills. 

She moved them backwards until his thighs rubbed against the dashboard, then pushed her hip against his groin, where his suit had become uncomfortably cramped. He whimpered and took a firm hold on her belt, squaring her against him.

Then suddenly, she pulled away and took a step back. He stumbled after, hands still cramping around her belt. She smirked at his bewildered expression and pushed him off her with her palms. “Get off my ship, Yon-rogg.”

He struggled to regain a hold on his muddled thoughts. She felt in control now. This was his opportunity. He discreetly placed the magnetic disc on the inside of the open panel, making it look like he was just supporting himself while reclaiming his gloves off the floor. It took all his willpower to entertain her with a defeated look as he left.

He walked with long strides across the hangar to the Aegis. Once inside and hidden from onlookers, he collapsed against the wall. He hoped it would be a while before the team returned from the leave he had given them. Meanwhile, he needed a shower.

***

Carol had hardly closed and locked the hatch to the Chevy before she sunk to the floor, hand clasped over her mouth, tears flooding her eyes. 

He still filled her senses. His smell was so familiar, so damn comforting in all its wrongness. It was all so terribly, terribly wrong. 

She felt split to her core.

***

The Mar-vell’s command room lit up when the holographic display engaged. Talos bowed to the image of the elderly skrull that appeared. Ruza was the oldest member of his family line. The elder’s green skin was pale and creased and he was wearing the brown, full-length garment that was custom for the Council elders.

“Talos. It’s been a long time,” Ruza greeted him with a smile, his voice brittle from age.

“I have been busy, grandfather.”

“You’ve had a struggle. I hope our losses were worth it. Tell me about your planet.”

Talos’s mood fell. He had struggled. The losses on his side had been nothing short of colossal. What was worse was that Talos had begun to doubt himself, too. Had he been acting in the best interest of his people, or had he just poured every resource at his disposal into the effort to save his family? What if Veranke’s opinion of Mar-vell actually held some merit?

“I named it _Soren_ ,” he said, forcing himself back to the present. “After my mate, who has taken upon herself to be its custodian. There’s water and oxygen. Life forms consist mostly of algae, plankton, fungus and lichen. But it has potential.”

“And what about the Kree?” The old man's doubt was understandable. Kree bombings were the single largest cause of Skrull civilian casualties. Their fragile homeless nation had no arsenal to battle the infernal firepower of the Accusers.

Talos knew his assurance wasn’t complete, but it was the only one he could offer. “I have dispatched agents to confirm that it’s not in recent Kree records. Until then, we won't let our guard down.”

“Let us know when you are certain. I have something else to discuss with you.”

“The Vote,” Talos grumbled. He disliked monarchs. Due to the need for unanimity in the Council, decision-making in Skrullos was a slow and deliberate process. Useless tarrying, according to many among the warrior caste. Monarchs were often elected when political pressure for unified action against the Kree grew too strong. The results were often devastating, but as a new generation came of age, the idea of a unifying monarch was once again idealized. And the cycle began anew.

“Veranke is well-liked,” Ruza probed.

“Sure. A well-liked revanchist,” Talos added sourly. He had begun to understand consequences of his long absence from politics, however little it suited him. While he had been on a mission to save his family, Veranke had used promises of revenge to win the hearts of the young. The Council were pressed to act in order to save their nation from a growing divide. Voting on a monarch at this point in time was nothing but a blow-hole for that frustration. It made Talos angry.

Ruza studied him patiently in the way a parent would their uncooperative child. Talos composed himself. “Has Veranke mentioned anything about her campaign?”

“Only that you were unwilling to join her,” Ruza said.

Talos snorted. He was being disrespectful, but the Council’s lack of backbone provoked him. “When is the Vote?”

“We are only waiting for Mazahk to return. She will arrive before the next minor alignment.”

That was sooner than Talos had hoped. Barely enough time for him to get to the fleet, should he wish to participate. Not that he felt any inclination to do so. A General could only ask for a Vote once in their lifetime. Talos had never even considered it. They weren’t a warrior nation anymore. Skrullos is a loosely knit, exiled nation of hunkering refugees and ragged warbands. But that reality didn’t fit Veranke’s idealism.

“You want to hear my opinion on Veranke?” Talos asked. Ruza nodded. “She’s vengeful. She’s brash. She will risk everything if there’s anything to be gained.”

Asking a Council member about what they would vote was forbidden. Attempting to coax a Council member into voting in favor of one’s opinion was considered disrespectful. Talos itched to do both those things.

“Your candor is appreciated,” Ruza said, now with a cool, formal tone. “And I have great respect for your opinion, General.”

The praise tasted bitterly to Talos, since he was already considering the implications of becoming a full-on defector as a result of Veranke’s ascension.

***

Soren turned the fine focus wheel on the microscope and watched the organic forms come into view. She lifted her eyes from the ocular and made some notes. She then took the next disc in the stack, fitted it on the stage, and did the same thing over again.

“Um, hi?” a voice sounded from the door.

She startled so suddenly, her head collided with the ocular.

Vorik stood in the doorway. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, looking abashed. “The algorithms that you were running in the lab are finished. I was on my way to get some parts for the Co2 scramblers and thought I’d take a look.”

Soren rubbed the sore spot on her brow and tried to smile. “Thank you. I really should know better than to startle at every sound by now.”

He shrugged. “It’s understandable. You spent six years on constant watch. It’s a difficult habit to break.”

She rose and switched off power to the microscope. During the last week, she had spent most of her time in her field lab. All the equipment came from the Mar-vell’s laboratory, but she was more comfortable working in their modular home than onboard the ship that had been her and her daughter’s prison for six years.

Vorik followed her as she walked out. She slowed her step so they were side by side. He’d been on the crew for some time now and Talos spoke highly of him, but she hardly knew him. “So what colony did you belong to?” she asked.

“Torfa,” he said. 

“Oh.” Torfa had been hit hard by the Kree, she had been told. “But you weren’t there when..?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I only grew up there. We moved around a lot. My mother was a healer.”

“That sounds nice,” Soren said. Healers were highly sought.

“She was,” he reminisced. “Until the Kree found her and my little sister.”

Soren felt a stab of anguish. That was an all too common end to stories of friends and family. “I am so sorry.”

He offered a tight-lipped smile. “It was a long time ago. They are in a better place now.”

That reply was also a common one, but it affected her deeply all the same. She cleared her throat, discreetly blinking away moist in her eyes. “So what do you think about our new home?”

He relaxed, seeming relieved by the change in subject. “I like it very much. It is beautiful. We owe Danvers for finding it.”

They walked up the Mar-vell’s entry ramp. “I’m going to the lab,” Soren announced. 

Vorik nodded and stepped to the side of the first hallway, towards lower maintenance.

“Um,” she said, feeling a little awkward about correcting a tech expert. “That’s not where the scramblers are. Trust me, I kept this thing going for six years. Up the left hallway there’s a floor hatch. The scramblers are located along the main ventilation adjoining the shaft below.”

Vorik blinked, looking perplexed a moment, then broke into a smile. “Of course. What was I thinking?” And then he went that way instead.

She smiled and shook her head to herself. Talos had said Vorik was a little absent-minded at times, but an absolute cracking genius for the most part.

The laboratory lit up automatically as she entered. The flow of text on the computer screen had stilled. She looked at the result and entered a command: _compare to source material_.

The display showed: _NO RESULT._

She added another command: _Allow arbitrary search pattern._

_FILE CORRUPTED: INFORMATION INCOMPLETE._

She sat back, confused. The computer claimed to have found a match to her data, but the match had no planet. The database contained all planets in the Kree record dated seven years ago. There could be only two explanations to the strange result: Either, the drocs were genetically engineered using DNA of different origins. But that should generate a ‘ _non determinable source’_ -response, she corrected herself. That would mean...

“... the planet of origin had been removed from Kree records prior to Mar-vell’s death,” Soren mumbled.

“Soren.” Talos voice sounded.

Again, she jumped. “This is getting tedious,” she complained. “At least this time I didn’t hit myself.” She swiveled the chair around, and her smile fell. “What is it?” She rose and walked to him.

“Do I look so deprived?” he attempted a smile, but it was short-lived. “Where is Indes?”

“With the other younglings. Did you speak to Ruza? What did he say?”

“He sends his love. Soren, I… _we_ have a decision to make.”

“About what to do if Veranke becomes queen and enlists you? But it’s not decided yet, right?” She placed her hands on the sides of his neck, willing his wayward gaze to settle on her.

“No. But it won’t be long.” He sighed, placed his hands on hers, stroking her skin with his thumbs. When he was in this state of mind it was as if he needed to keep some part of him moving, even if it was just his fingers.

His gloomy mood was not ideal for what she was about to tell him, but there was nothing to be done about it. “I have to go to Knowhere,” she declared, “to find a planet that the Kree have removed from their records.”

“To save the Kree,” he growled.

“To help Carol,” she corrected soberly. “I won’t be gone long.”

“You’ll need a ship.”

“If it’s a fast one, I’ll be back sooner.” 

Talos’s shoulders slumped as he resigned. “Take the Hanzar-904.” It was the fastest of the smaller ships at their disposal. “There’s no way I can convince you not to do this, is there?”

“No. And it’s not _very_ dangerous,” she consoled, and kissed him. “Thank you.”

Soren went back to their modular home and gathered everything she would need; the miner uniform with the mask, a stunner, a blaster, some provisions, a memory unit and a data pad. She then went to say goodbye to her daughter, who was worried but, like all Skrull children, tragically used to the idea of her parents risking their lives.

As she made her way uphill to their rudimentary shipyard, situated on a plateau, Talos came hiking up the slope after her. A pack was slung over his shoulder. It didn’t take long for her to draw a conclusion. He caught up with her, took her shoulders in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers.

“You are my mate. Where you go, I follow.”


	9. Safe house

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this fic, Skrulls can only change their bodies, not their clothes.

The Hanzar-904 could cover the stretch between  _ Soren  _ and the jump point faster than the Mar-vell, but travel time was still considerable.

Once the autopilot engaged, Talos reclined the backrest and stretched his legs below the dashboard, putting his hands with his fingers laced behind his head. Soren was in the copilot chair, engrossed in some document on her tablet.

He watched her graceful face and hands in silent revelry. In the eyes of most sentients, his people were ugly, with their speckled green, furrowed skin and pointed ears. As a consequence of a life in constant hiding, many Skrulls began to think so of themselves, too. Soren had been one of those. Always wearing someone else’s face, never learning about or accepting the body that was her own.

That she of all Skrulls would refuse to hate the Kree was a mystery to him. They looked at the same galaxy but she reached beyond his line of sight.

He could tell she was aware of his scrutiny. She shifted a little, hips moving from side to side, making it look like she was just adjusting herself. He let his gaze burn even harder into her. There were things they needed to discuss, plans that had to be made, but there was plenty of time to go around. “Soren,” he whispered.

“Hm..?” She looked up, a smile forming on the corners of her lips.

He bent forward, took the data pad from her and placed it on the dashboard, then scooped her up.

She giggled and made weak escape attempts as he dragged her to the back of the cabin. He caught her arms and held her against him. This was an old game of theirs.

“Talos,” she said with attempted authority, “I was making plans. There’s no bed...” He silenced her with a kiss.

“I’ll be content with the wall,” he growled low in her ear, and felt her shudder. He moved her backwards until she was pressed between him and the cabin wall.

“I need to access the Tivan group’s database; we need a plan.”

“A plan, hm..?” He kissed the sensitive skin beneath her ear while tracing its elegant curve with his finger, sending another tremor through her. “Tell me.”

“The plan,” she said with a voice growing incrementally strained. “Is to find a suitable disguise.”

“What else is new?” he smirked, tugging her shirt up from beneath her trousers.

“I was thinking of something small,” she breathed, “that won’t draw attention...”

He traced his thumbs along the lines on her lower abdomen, pulled down the waistband and kissed the exposed skin. She covered her face with her arms, moaning softly with each of his movements.

He laughed to himself, as much a sound of relief as joy. Being away from her had numbed him, like a part of his body had been cut off from its blood supply. Now that the warmth returned, it brought with it pain and pleasure in equal amounts.

He paused, waiting for direction. She looked down at him, eyes half-closed, lips slightly parted, and nodded.

Despite his earlier remark, they now unfolded their sleeping mats and spread open a sleeping bag to create a makeshift bed.

Talos wriggled out of his chest armor, discarded the belt with his knife and blaster, clipped off his wrist comm, and took off his boots.

Soren was already settled on the mattress and watched with a soft smile as he undressed, absently tracing her fingers across her chest. She was still in her underwear, shy of her own nakedness. He mourned that she would never believe how complete she was, but accepted it. It was just another kind of a scar.

When he was naked, he stepped to the dashboard and switched off the light.

***

Soren felt him approach and lower himself on the mat beside her. She took his hand and guided his fingers to the small, newly formed ridge from an implant on her hip.

He tensed when he recognized the contraceptive. There had been a silent understanding that another child would be welcomed as soon as they had found a home.

“It’s just for now,” she said. “Until we know more.”

He buried his face in the crook of her neck. His grief felt like cold water on her.

She felt guilty. “I want it too. But...”

“I’m never leaving you again,” he said heatedly. He grabbed her wrists and pressed her hands against his chest. His heartbeat vibrated below her palms. “I’m so sorry, Soren. Can you forgive me?”

“You don’t need my forgiveness,” she said softly, meaning it.

“Yes, I do.” He moved closer and pressed his forehead to hers.

“It wasn’t your choice. Indes and I are both well and that’s all that matters.”

“Not to me.”

It made no sense to her, the way he blamed himself for the way events had unfolded. He had forgiven Carol with hardly any consideration, but could not accept that he too was subjugate to circumstance.

"No. Compared to many others, we were  _ lucky _ . Don't burden us with unwarranted guilt."

His grip loosened as he slowly capitulated. "Do you find me overbearing?"

"I don’t know. Maybe. You claim responsibility for the result of circumstance and then ask me to forgive you. What would you call that?"

He grunted and withdrew his hands, rolling to his back. No matter how much he craved release through absolution, she knew it would be a mistake to offer it before he had come clean about what he was really asking for.

“Tell me,” she urged him.

"There was… a moment," Talos said with a thick voice. "When I thought I had scowered every corner of the Galaxy for a clue to where Mar-vell had hidden you. I saw it in the eyes of everyone involved with the search; telling me it was time to give up."

She laid her head on his shoulder, lifting herself just so he could fit his arm around her. He drew her close.

"I believed them. I called back the scouting teams."

She hadn't heard this part before. She almost held her breath.

"I began to talk about you in past tense. When a lead finally appeared, I prepared myself to find out not where you and Indes were, but where you had died... You know the rest, about how we discovered the energy signature from Carol." 

Soren found nothing damning in his story to legitimise his plea for forgiveness. She was sure he realized that, too. But with the truth laid bare between them, she felt free to give him what he craved. Solemnly, she said, “I forgive you.”

The power of the words, said in earnest, was palpable in him. With the knot in his heart finally unwinded, Talos let out a shaking breath, the muscles in his shoulder softened. 

He rolled over her, supported on his elbows, framing her head between his forearms. Gone was the playful, rogish attitude from earlier. Now, he was all about need. His kisses were hungry and consuming, his hands desperate and impatient. She welcomed it.

Afterwards, she curled up against his chest, seeking his warmth. The cabin was so small, their feet almost touched the fastening of the chairs, and their heads bumped into the pile of their hastily opened packs. Talos rummaged with one hand for another sleeping bag, unzipped it and spread it out over them.

He was soon falling asleep, snoring with his nose against her neck. She bumped him gently with her shoulder. He grunted, stirred a little, and slept quietly after that.

She considered returning to what she was doing earlier, but her body, now languid and warm, argued against the impulse. They would have time to make a plan, Soren conceded, and closed her eyes, too.

***

Just before arriving at Knowhere, they dressed up in the miner uniforms that covered them from head to toe. They couldn’t be too cautious; the Empire’s bounty money made them a target even outside Kree space.

Talos then presented two small, circular comm discs. In their middle was an inset button. He fastened on the inside of his collar and handed the other to her. The discs worked outside the regular comm network and therefore wouldn’t function across jump points, but had decent range otherwise. And most of all; they were discreet.

At the sentry’s request, they identified themselves with the same aliases they had used on their last visit. Then began the search for suitable disguises for their planned heist.

Soren’s initial suggestion had been to trade the information from the Collector. It was the obvious solution. However, Talos had raised concerns about the implications of an open inquiry. If the Kree had erased the planet from their systems, they would have taken precautions to protect whatever secrets it held. Though the Empire had no official dealings with the Tivan group, Talos had no wish to find them on the radar of a bounty hunters’ guild. That left them with the option of acquiring the information by less honest means. Soren had no moral qualms about that whatsoever, however it would require preparation and timing.

Knowhere didn’t pose any obvious risk of discovery since it was not a part of Kree space. The colony was self organizing for most part. As long as they didn’t attract attention, they should be fine.

They walked on the main street towards Exitar’s center. As they passed below an awning, Soren grabbed Talos arm to halt him. On the other side of the street was a fair-haired man with bright pink skin and lean features. He looked like he was heading towards the port.

She felt a ripple beneath the fabric and then Talos was an inch shorter than before. Soren took a peek under his mask. A handsome face with pale gray eyes looked back at her. She nodded. “Let’s find you something to wear.”

A couple of blocks down the street, Talos bought a set of clothes to add credibility to the borrowed persona. They moved into a narrow alley for him to change. He turned in a circle for her.

“You like it,” he said, adjusting the collar of the leather jacket while flashing a smile.

Rather than admitting he was right, she warned, “Carol might steal it, you know.”

Talos winked, swung the pack onto his shoulder and swaggered off to the main street. Soren kept a step behind, aware of what an odd couple they made. She knew she had to find a suitable shift, but the process was too delicate for her to simply take any face passing by.

The street widened into a large, circular square. Soren recognized the place; this was the main junction. From here, they would have to look for the Tivan group signs to find the Collector’s museum.

Suddenly, Talos tugged her into a doorway. She braced herself against his chest.

“We have an audience,” he hissed, nodding in the direction they had come from. “Shift. Now.”

They were in deep shade compared to the brightly lit street. Talos positioned himself in front of her, hand hovering at his blaster.

A distant squeak caught Soren’s attention. Far across the square was a sales stand with various animals. In one cage was a rodent-like creature with a long, furry body and a striped tail with a little tuft of hair at the end. The creature thrashed and clawed at it’s confinement.

Despite the distance between them, the creature’s small carbon eyes locked on her like it knew her. It stilled in its struggle. She looked back, entranced.

***

Talos’s heart hammered as he scanned the crowd for a sign of the armed figures he had seen a moment ago. Their last trip to Knowhere hadn’t given them any trouble, but perhaps it had been a mistake to use the same costumes and aliases this time. A diligent bounty hunter would easily spot the recurring pattern.

He heard a muffled thump and glanced over his shoulder only to see Soren’s costume reduced to a pile on the ground. From under the fabric, a little animal emerged. An orcaz peered back at him, whiskers twitching.

“Something small, huh..?” He shook his head at her as he hurriedly stuffed her clothes into their pack.

Few Skrulls could shift into animals. For most, the form was impossible to hold on to. But it seemed as if every living thing gravitated towards Soren and her innate benevolence.

He glanced around the corner. When he couldn’t see the suspected pursuers, he turned to orcaz-Soren and gently picked her up, holding her around the chest below her front legs. “Guess it’ll do for now. Sure you can hold on to it?”

Soren attempted to speak using the creature's underdeveloped vocal cords, but it only sounded like ‘caaush’. She wriggled out of his grip and climbed onto his shoulders, draping her tail across his chest. On a whim, he stroked her back. She crooned. He chuckled.

He walked towards Tivan tower with Soren riding on his shoulders, using every reflective surface in their way to watch their rear. There had been three of them. One tall, brown-skinned woman with striking, bright purple hair, who seemed to be their leader, armed with a longblaster slung across her back. She had two fair-skinned henchmen with her, armed with blasters and knives. The trio were, by his estimation, just average spaceport bounty hunter sludge. He would outmaneuver them with ease. Still, it would be preferable to avoid confrontation.

After a few blocks with no sign of them, he relaxed a little.

He grunted when orcaz-Soren dug her claws into his shoulder. She was staring at a sack of nuts by a sales stand.

“This is one of the reasons we avoid shifting into animals,” he reminded her, earning another squeeze of her claws for the remark. He bought a bag of nuts and fed her from his hand as they kept walking. She clicked and chirped approvingly. Even she had to struggle against, and occasionally surrender to, the animal’s instinct, or risk losing the form.

A block later, when he rounded a corner, the bounty hunter trio appeared further down the street. They had rounded them and now intersected their path.

Talos took a swift turn into an alley. “Hide,” he whispered. Soren leaped to the ground and scurried into the shadows.

Running at this point was useless. The bounty hunters had seen them, knew what form they held, and Soren wouldn’t be able to easily shift from her current state, as she would end up completely naked in whatever form she chose.

A rusty metal frame would have to do as cover. He drew his knife and held it in his left hand, supporting the blaster in his right as he was aiming at the alley opening. His vision narrowed and his chest contracted with tension.

Just as he forced a deep breath through his lungs, purple hair appeared in his view. He fired a shot at her head. She ducked, swearing with a girlish voice that didn’t seem to belong in that brutish body of hers. Only then, Talos noticed her longblaster was still in its holster on her back. She crouched, holding her empty hands in a placating gesture.

“Soren, will you tell your man to stand the hell down!” she called out.

The two henchmen appeared behind her, both with their hands empty. Talos steadied his aim. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“Tall and handsome, but not too bright.” The woman rose slowly, wary of the fact that he was still pointing his gun at her. Despite her obvious disadvantage, she merely seemed amused. “Your wife gives you too much credit, Talos.”

His mind did a somersault. “Tank?!”

He lowered his blaster and put the knife in its sheath. Tank, who was the name of the Skrull hiding inside this brute of a woman, now grinned. She called out again for Soren. When the orcaz appeared from below a pile of rubble, Tank’s grin grew even wider. She kneeled and Soren cautiously sniffed her hand.

Talos stood dumbfounded, still unsure what to believe. “How did you...”

“I didn’t. But when you reappeared with an orcaz on your shoulders, I thought ‘there’s only one Skrull I know who can do  _ that’.  _ C’mon, darling,” she said to orcaz-Soren, “let’s get you back in shape.”

Orcaz-Soren climbed onto Tank’s wide shoulders. Tank pointed at her two companions. “This is Mav and Jez. They’re from Torfa.”

The two henchmen approached, each addressing him with a brief ‘General’.

“I’ll take you to our safehouse,” Tank said and started down the alley. Talos followed cautiously, not ready to holster his gun just yet. The henchmen took the rear.

At the end of the alley was a set of stairs that led them to another street, this one darker and much less lively than the main routes. Tank stopped them by a door which opened with a keypad. Inside, Talos was met by warm light, soft background music and the smell of food. He followed Tank through a hallway and then entered a wide, square room with a ceiling so low, Tank, who was the tallest of them, had to hunker down not to hit her head on the light armatures. The room was furnished with tables and chairs and along one wall was a bar area and a door with a drapery. From behind it, Talos heard the clink of kitchenware.

Tank crossed between the chairs towards the bar. In here, she looked like a giant. Talos smiled thinking about how little she was as her true self.

Mav and Jez lingered in the hallway. Talos craned his neck trying to see where they went. “Are you the only Skrulls here?” he asked.

“As far as I’m aware, yes.”

“Is this your place? It looks like a bar.”

“It is. Sometimes. The owner hates the Empire. And he makes great food. Meanwhile, we take care of any  _ problems _ .” Tank tapped her longblaster to add meaning. She settled on a chair next to the bar area, threw her feet onto the table, her trunk-like legs crossed. Soren, who had been clinging to Tank’s shoulder until now, moved to sit on the table.

“You can unshift in our dorm. First door on your left, after the drapery,” Tank said to Soren, who jumped down from the table.

“Hey handsome,” Tank stalled him just as he was about to go after Soren. A mischievous grin formed as she eyed him head to toe, lingering a little longer on his unbuttoned collar. “Nice jacket.”

If Talos had any doubts left that this was really Tank, he let them go then.

***

When Soren shifted into the orcaz, the ripple of her skin felt more like an implosion, a sucking feeling as her body contracted, a boiling down of her mind to fit within the shell of the small, instinct-driven creature.

The orcaz pulled and struggled against her logic. She summoned images of warmth, comfort, and food. The creature’s memories responded by giving her images of grabbing hands, thundering laughter and rotten meat. The animal was traumatized.

Soren’s world was dark until she found her way out of the bundle of clothes. Talos towered above her. She filled the creature’s body with her memories of comfort, safety and love associated with this man. The orcaz was calm when he lifted them.

She tried, experimentally, to speak his name, but it came out as a little more than a squeak. Soren suggested to the orcaz that they might sit comfortably on the kind man’s shoulders. It obliged and Soren climbed up and settled herself around Talos’s neck like a fur collar.

When they passed a stand with food and snacks, Soren’s world was taken up completely by the orcaz’s sense of smell. Images of food, and the stress connected to the lack thereof, flooded Soren’s mind. But the moment Talos offered them the nuts from his hand, the creature calmed and allowed her to resume control.

Soren instantly felt Talos alarm at the sighting of the pursuers. The orcaz reacted with fear, compelling them to crawl, dig, find darkness. A pile of rubble in the alley was sufficient as a hiding place. A blaster fired outside. Then there were voices. Soren struggled against the orcaz’s flight instinct. She knew that voice, she kept telling herself. Then Talos said the name.

_ Tank _ .

Her mind rushed to memories of her youth. Nights by a campfire. Moments of intimacy and love and joy and belonging. The orcaz was moved by her feelings, and slowly curiosity won the fight against fear. She peeked out from the rubble.

A tall, imposing woman sat on one knee with her hand stretched out. Soren smelled her fingers. The woman looked nothing like Tank, but Soren knew it was her. The orcaz understood that this woman was another kind one. Another one it wanted to be close to. It let Soren climb onto Tank.

When they had entered the safehouse, the orcaz calmed. It was a burrow animal, a prey as well as a predator, and always preferred dark places. When Soren could no longer sit comfortably on Tank’s shoulder, she moved to the table instead.

Tank gave directions to a room where she could shift back. Soren needed the animal to trust her a few more moments. She promised release as soon as they came through the door to the bedroom. It felt like a cruel lie, because the real orcaz was still trapped in a cage, a helpless prisoner to it’s abuser. A promise given to its duplicate still carried weight to her.

She moved after Talos, through the drapery and door, into a bedroom with two bunks and a mattress on the floor. Talos closed the door.

“We’re alone,” he said.

Shifting back was equally dramatic as becoming the orcaz. Soren broke in every place at once, pieces expanding, her shell pulsating back and forth to finally be cast into her own shape. The final ripple across her skin left her raw and deprived. Her first breath with her fully expanded lungs came out with a sob.

Talos was close. Something warm enveloped her. He made a breathy chuckle, rubbing her back, gently lifting her curled up body into a sitting position. He moved to sit in front of her, knees supporting knees, his hands holding the blanket in place around her shoulders. He still had his shift on, but it didn’t matter. Regardless of how he looked, Talos was a constant.

“Tank?” Soren mumbled.

“Is here. Waiting for you.”

“Did you bring...”

“The pack? Yes.”

Soren put on basics, a tunic, trousers and boots. When they came out through the drapery, Tank greeted them with a smile and a nod.

“Now that’s better. Welcome back, Soren.”

They embraced, Tank so tall now that Soren barely reached her shoulder. Her friend smelled of sweat, metal, leather, drink and weapon grease. And something else not part of her current form, something that was just Tank. She released Soren with a grunt and walked to the bar where she began to open lockers and drawers, searching for something.

“What are you doing on Knowhere, Tank?” Soren asked.

“Surviving. Intel-gathering...” Tank found what she was looking for; a near-full bottle of something. She held it up with a victorious grin. “… Drinking.”

Tank sifted through the stacks of glasses until she found three reasonably clean ones. “Come on, a reunion like this calls for some celebration.”

Soren attempted a smile for her friend. For all her friendly banters, Tank’s person was like a corrak hide; smooth and supple but nearly impenetrable. She would open up when she was ready, not before.

“So what are you two doing here?” Tank asked while filling their glasses.

Talos and Soren shared a glance. Soren said, “I need information about a planet in Tivan’s database. We are on our way to the Collector’s museum.”

Tank snorted. “Good luck with that. The place is locked up. No one enters except Tivan’s own people. Word in town is something was stolen.”

Soren sipped her drink. It was bitter and potent. She set the glass down. She had never taken well to drinking, and after the years on the Mar-vell, her tolerance was at its minimum. Tank downed her glass and immediately poured herself another one. On the surface, she was unchanged, her signature flirtatious bravado intact. But below her imposing form, Soren sensed withdrawal.

“Anyways,” Tank continued. “What were you looking for?”

Soren explained the chain of events that had led them here, and how the plan had been to enter the museum and get access to the database that Carol had mentioned. At the mention of Carol’s name, Tank looked confused.

Talos filled in, “Carol Danvers. Also known as Captain Marvel.”

Tank’s mouth fell open, for once in her life at a loss for words.

Just then, the drapery was pulled aside and a blue-skinned, stout man entered the room carrying a tray. Talos started so suddenly from his seat that the chair fell backwards, clattering to the floor. He drew his pistol, aiming at the Kree who stopped dead in his tracks, the contents of the tray rattling.

“But for the sake of Skrullos, Talos;  _ chill _ .” Tank groaned exasperatedly. She turned to the Kree. “Sorry about this Jorias, I should have warned them. The hothead is Talos, General of Skrullos army. And this is Soren; a woman so smart I can’t believe she married him.”

The man introduced as Jorias approached cautiously. Talos muttered an excuse and set his chair straight. The tray was laden with a stack of plates, cutlery and a steaming pot of something that smelled delicious.

Tank took the tray from him, bent down and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, you’re an angel. Will you sit with us?”

Jorias looked between her and Talos. He muttered something close to Tank’s ear that Soren couldn’t make out, then turned and disappeared behind the drapery.

Talos was on needles again. “Where’s he going?”

“Listen, handsome,” Tank was dead serious now, her jovial act forgotten. “Three Hala-years ago, Jorias was caught dealing with Xandar to get them to release his husband, who was held hostage. Kree agents shot his husband and the Xandar negotiators at the exchange. Jorias barely escaped with his life.”

Talos stilled and looked at the floor.

Soren asked tentatively, “Will you come with us, when we return to… our home planet?” She couldn’t call it  _ Soren  _ yet, it still felt undeserved.

Tank loaded her plate with food. “If I and the boys leave Exitar, the Guild will consider it up for grabs and another group will claim our spot.”

“How long have you been holding up here?”

Tank shrugged.  _ That long _ , Soren thought mournfully.

While they ate, they exchanged news. Aside from Carol’s actions above Earth, not much had occurred lately. Most reports were of smaller skirmishes or sabotage committed by independent Skrull cells, acting outside of the jurisdiction of the Council of Skrullos.

When Talos came upon the subject of Veranke and the Vote, Tank bristled. “You know, she offered me the rank of Captain, after the battle at Juxa? I told her to get stuffed. We had it all under control before she showed up with her grand battleship and blew our cover to hell.”

“The Kree lost a cruiser in that battle,” Talos commented. “Or so I was told.”

“Oh yeah?” Tank snarled. “Well that’s just rat shit to them. Meanwhile,  _ we _ lost most of the colony on Juxa because Veranke didn’t wait for the extraction of our people. In my opinion, that makes her as much a murderer as the Kree.”

“If Veranke is elected, Talos will defect,” Soren said, feeling the need to clarify their position.

Tank was silent for a moment, frustration oozing off her. “Where will you go?”

“We… haven’t really planned that far,” Soren admitted.

“Immediately after the Vote, Talos will be requested to appear and swear allegiance,” Tank stated, although they were already aware of this fact. “Does the Council know of _ Soren’s  _ location?”

“Not yet,” Talos said.

“Good. Keep it that way. There are many who will want to follow you.”

“That’s not what we want,” Soren said. She understood the logic behind Tank’s reasoning, and she had considered the option herself. But the planet was meant to be a home to their people. Not some private property for her and Talos to hoard for themselves and their friends.

“I know. But it’s what you got, isn’t it?” Tank reached for the bottle, leaned back and filled her glass again, raising it in a mock toast.

The crassness rattled Soren.

Tank didn’t seem to notice her concern. She tilted her glass, studying the amber liquid through the light. “I think we can get you what you came for. Mav can help you. He’s a genius.”

With those words, Tank rose and indicated for Talos and Soren to follow. She led them to a room filled with various tech spread out across shelves and desks. In front of two monitors, clattering away on dual keyboards, was Mav, the pale-skinned henchman with black hair and beard.

“Mav, do you still have access to the Tivan server?” Tank asked.

Mav paused his coding. He swiveled his chair around, looking at them with mild interest. “Who needs it?”

“Soren does,” Tank said and gave Soren a gentle push forward.

***

Talos was about to go with Soren but Tank grabbed his arm. “You and I will relieve Jez at the watch.” Talos looked at Soren and Mav who were speaking with hushed voices. If he remained here it would be as a fifth wheel. He shrugged and nodded.

Tank led him to a back door. Beside it was a ladder leading to the roof. A small hut with wide windows had been erected there. Jez was sitting on a stool, looking over the city with a pair of binoculars, rifle resting in his lap. He was fair-skinned like Mav but had ginger hair in a long braid across his back.

“Anything going on?” Tank asked, hunkering below the low roof. Jez shook his head with a ‘na-uh’. Tank ushered him away from his post. “Go eat. We’ll take over.”

“What are we looking for exactly?” Talos asked, peering in the direction Jez had been looking earlier.

“Sentries. They usually appear in the night cycle. They scan Exitar for anyone who is not recognized in the records from the landing zone.”

“So that’s what it’s for.”

“Yes. So much for a ‘free town’.”

Tank offered the stool to Talos, as her bulk made it more comfortable to sit on the floor.

“So, what’s up with the shift?” she purred, nudging him with her elbow.

Talos didn’t know Tank the way Soren did. But he could tell when someone was retrenching.

“What have you been up to?” he countered.

“Aren’t you a killjoy?”

He grunted. He wasn’t in the mood for banter.

“Fine. I’ve been busy. Finding broken people. Try to fix them, or, you know… help them live with the fact that they’re never gonna be whole again.” She shrugged and set the binoculars to her eyes, her lips pursed.

Talos considered taking the role of the older and wiser, telling her that nothing was broken beyond repair, but opted out. Tank was too smart to listen to that sort of thing. That’s why she saw through the likes of Veranke. Instead of trying to undo her words, he absorbed them, a witness to the state of his people.

After a while, Tank’s comlink buzzed. It was Soren, calling via Mav’s link.

“ _ Come down. We found it.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tank is a cameo from DenseHumboldt’s [Wraith](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20048968), where she’s my favourite original character.


	10. Burns

After twenty-four hours of repeated deployment and droc-blasting, Carol was exhausted. In terms of power she was limitless, but her human heart ached over the horrors she witnessed, and her head demanded sleep.

Four more planets had reported attacks. The Kree fleet organized itself flawlessly as more and more resources were pulled to handle the droc invasion. The Accusers followed in the footsteps of each evacuation, disintegrating everything left alive.

The unanswered question on everyone's mind, was who had the resources to pull something like this. Skrulls were routinely blamed for any attack that had no obvious sender. It was a politically sound strategy, as it didn’t only elevate responsibility for any fault on part of the Empire, but added to a sense of unity against a common, familiar, threat. Carol assumed the only reason why no such public claim had been made this time was the severity of the attack. The obvious signs of a cover-up in the making didn’t surprise her. There was Kree blood in the water and the Empire's enemies would find the news mouth-watering.

Something wasn’t as it should be, but Carol would have to wait for Soren’s research to provide more sense to the situation.

Then there was Yon-rogg.

To her dismay, he kept on his keel, as cool and efficient as ever. She would have found petty satisfaction seeing him torn from his lofty tower of self-control. Instead, admiration crept up on her. Admiration of his tireless devotion and keen mind. The way he could lead without diminishing those around him. She stomped on the feeling until it was still and numb.

Every evacuation was a little different but the main steps were the same; Carol would go first, obliterate any drocs in the way of the transports and refugees, and then keep fighting until the last transport lifted.

She began thinking of each planet in terms of how many transports had been filled. Picturing how many she had helped save made it more bearable.

Juxa; 5, Paloma; 12, Viris; 45, Surqes; 10, Monsat Fas; 7, Vestium; 15.

Karmand was a largely urbanized planet and the evacuation of it had taken more time than all the others put together. Civilians were spread out, fleeing in every direction, mercilessly chased down and massacred. Admiral On-Sar had dispatched several sniper teams to hover above the cities and attempt to clear a safe path but at best they managed to slow the onslaught.

Carol knew she was unfocused, her senses numbed from lack of sleep, but there was nowhere to go but forward. When she reached the final evac zone, located in the middle of a ring of high-rise buildings, she felt like she had in the beginning of her training on Hala; at constant fear of accidentally hurting someone.

Finally, the last transport lifted off the ground. Carol, flying just under it, turned in the air to send a final burst of fiery rage down on the creatures below.

“ _ Vers, Watch out!”  _ Yon-rogg alerted on the comm. She wondered sluggishly what he could mean, using her old name.  _ “Vers, behind you!” _

Something massive hit her. She fell, aware only of Yon-rogg’s panicked screams and the deafening roar of engines.

When she came to, she was lying in a shallow crater. Her vision was blurred but she heard the unmistakable sound of drocs, the ground vibrating from the mass of approaching bodies. Her powers charged up on instinct, blasting a circle around her. She scrambled to her feet and took off upwards. Looking down, she saw the smoking wreckage of the transport that had collided with her, likely attacked by drocs on the rooftops.

She tried to call Starforce, tell them she was alright, but her bracer had taken a hit and the comm was dead. The Aegis was hovering above. She flew to it, slamming her fist on the airlock just as she had the first time.

When she stumbled inside, Yon-rogg came jogging to meet her, a harrowed look on his face.

“Ver… Carol,” he corrected himself mid breath. “I thought...”

“Transmitter’s busted,” she interrupted coolly, tapping her forearm, hating the way his concern seeped under her skin.

Yon-rogg quickly regained his bearings, once again professional. “I see. We’ll have to replace it.”

She followed him through the Aegis. In the assembly area, she spotted Att-lass and Ta-rinn in the pilot chairs, conversing with hushed voices. As they turned aftward, they walked into Bron-char.

“Good work down there,” he commended. “I’m glad you’re ok.”

Carol answered with a tight-lipped smile. The icy tension between her and Starforce thawed with every hour. It was heartwarming and concerning at the same time. Very soon, they might find each other on opposite sides again.

“It’s your turn to rest,” Yon-rogg reminded Bron-char, who nodded and went.

“When is it yours?” Carol asked though she already knew the answer; he wouldn’t. She could see it clearly now; the glazed look, the tired slump of his shoulders.

“Next time.”

In the starboard dorm, he pulled out a toolbox from under a bunk. His bunk, she remembered.

“As our tech specialist is no longer with us,” he stated, removing the uppermost compartment to get to the spare parts, “I will attempt to make the repair.”

“Was she killed by the drocs?”

“Arm, please,” he said, ignoring her inquiry. Carol suddenly became intensely aware that they were alone. She extended her left arm, the one with the broken comm. Yon-rogg took her wrist and turned it to get a better angle. She grunted as pain stung through her arm. He looked questioningly at her.

“It’s nothing,” she said, a little too quickly.

“Your uniform is ruptured.” He marked the damaged places along her arm and shoulder. She grimaced, wishing the pain could drown out the way his touch was setting her on fire.

She retracted her arm from him, taking a step back.

The concern on his face was back, eyebrows raised, head tilted slightly to the side. She wanted to leave, but she needed the transmitter replaced. She took a deep breath and unzipped her uniform, wriggling her bruised arm out of it, leaving as much on as possible.

From his expression she could deduce that her arm and shoulder looked worse than it felt, but thankfully he didn’t comment on it. Instead he took up the repair paste and began sealing the holes.

For several minutes, the only sound was the low engine hum, the brush of fabric and the fizzling sound of the repair paste sealing the damage on her suit. And his focused breath. Through his nose. She made a point of not looking at him, and wondered if he did the same on his end.

When the holes in her uniform were sealed, he took up the tiny metallic chip that would replace her broken transmitter.

“You have to hold it,” he said. “I need both my hands.” She did as he asked, holding the bracer steadily in front of herself. He pried its shell open. The damage wasn’t bad, only some charring on the corners.

Carol could think of nothing but how his wrist touched her naked arm as he leaned on her to steady his hands. She wondered if he thought of it too. He could have asked someone else to help her with the repairs. She could have demanded it, too.

When he was finished, she slunk her arm back into the uniform and closed the zipper, as if that was the sole thing protecting her from the effect he had on her.

“Thanks,” she said with a thick voice that didn’t sound at all casual, and began to walk out.

“Carol.” She stopped as instantly as if she’d stepped on a wire. He shoved the toolbox back under the bunk with a grunt. “Make sure you get some rest.”

“I will,” she nodded stiffly.

“Do you need a tab or anything?”

She hesitated. “No. No, I don’t… have that problem anymore.”

He smiled joylessly, looking at the floor. “Of course you don’t.”

She left before she gave herself any more regrets.

***

Soren watched with fascination as Mav let his fingers loose on the keyboard, entering line after line of commands, smoothly sifting through arrays of data. The screen blacked out for a moment, then came live again, this time with a new interface.

“We’re in,” Mav triumphed, smiling tightly through concentration. “What are you looking for?”

“A database on habitable planets. Location, DNA-structure type and element composition.” As Soren lined up the information, Mav entered more commands, incrementally narrowing down on what she needed. While he worked, Soren fetched the memory unit. When she came back, Mav pointed at the screen.

“I think this is it, don’t you?”

“It is,” she said, genuinely impressed. Tank had not exaggerated Mav’s skills. Mav rose from the chair and invited her to sit. She inserted the memory unit and booted the program that would perform the search.

Mav watched with bright interest as she worked. It was a long time since she encountered a similarly minded person, much less another Skrull. Having someone lean into her work while asking actually relevant questions felt unusual, but she enjoyed it.

Soren entered the command:  _ Compare existing source material; Allow arbitrary search pattern _ .

The program worked. Soren bit her nails.

MATCH FOUND. 792180-01;583320-91;732810-61. PALLAKOR.

She called Talos via Mav’s link. When he appeared in the door, she was just explaining to Mav how the program worked. Talos shot the younger Skrull a dangerous glare, which Soren chastised with a glare of her own.

“Have you heard of a planet named Pallakor?” she asked.

Talos walked across the room to where they were sitting. “Can’t say I have, no.”

“There’s a jump point close to it,” Soren pointed at the map currently displayed on the second monitor. Her meaning didn’t escape him.

“No.”

She tilted her head.

Talos gripped her by the shoulders and lifted her to him. Emerald eyes bored into her. “No,” he repeated with a growl.

“Can’t we talk about it?” She wriggled out of his grasp so she was standing firmly on her feet.

He crossed his arms, frowning. “We already have. Before we left.”

“Fine. I'll go alone then.” The words hurt even as she said them, but then it was too late. She unplugged the memory unit and nodded a ‘thank you’ to Mav, who looked like he would rather be anywhere but here at the moment. She left with fast strides, fleeing the inevitable discord. Her arguments were few and biased; she would lose.

Talos caught up with her in the bar area. She crossed smoothly between the chairs. He pushed them out of the way to keep up with her. “Soren, stop it!” he called although she was just a few steps ahead.

She halted. He caught her by her shoulders, spun her around to face him. He had dropped his shift, his true self now looking back at her with unrelenting concern. His movements were jerky as if he wanted to shake sense into her.

“Jacket still looks good on you,” she said with a wry smile.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“You’re just being protective. I understand.”

“No,” he said vehemently, shaking his head with the same energy, paused, and nodded instead. “Yes. Going here, finding this information, was an acceptable risk. What you’re suggesting now, Soren, is  _ dangerous _ .” He loosened his hold on her a little, the weight of their disparate opinions lowering his voice, “Also, quite frankly… it’s a Kree problem. It’s not our business.”

“Well, we don’t know that yet,” she argued weakly, eyes fixed somewhere behind him. Talos shook her gently to bring her back. He leaned his forehead to hers, brushing their noses.

“We’ll send Carol the info, then we go home.” His emphasis on the word  _ home  _ pulled at her heartstrings. “Indes misses us,” he added, knowing the mention of their child would tilt the scale more to his favor.

He was right.

But she disliked leaving a loose end dangling; she wanted to find its mate and tie together a comprehensible wholeness. Where there was a question there was an answer and her gut told her the answer she was chasing this time could turn everything on its end. Her arms slumped, fingers impatiently twirling the memory unit. Gut feeling wasn’t a good argument.

She sighed and let herself sag into him, turning her head so she could rest it on his shoulder.

They would return to the port, call Carol and begin the journey back to  _ Soren _ and the life they were slowly building there. Except before she was ready to go home, she needed to talk with Tank. That was one loose end she was able to heal, at least.

Carol had become a great friend but Tank was the only one, aside from Talos, who truly knew her. Or at least, that’s how it used to be, before the whole thing with Mar-vell crashed down on them. The Tank she met now was different. Coarse. Angry. Clamped like a giant seashell and just as willing to lop your finger off if you tried to wrench her open.

Talos showed her the way to the ladder that lead up to the lookout. When Soren climbed the last steps, Tank’s voice reached her, “Time to leave, little Soren?”

Soren huffed as she pulled herself over the edge. “Soon. We’re in no rush.”

“Good.”

Soren sat down cross-legged beside Tank, whose giant frame seemed to shrink her, making the use of her childhood nickname seem not too strange. “I’d like you to come with us.”

“I gathered that much. But like I said, I have a job to do here.” Tank didn’t divert her eyes from the city.

“And who gave you that job?”

“Me,” Tank gruffed.

“What happened to her?” Soren poked Tank’s arm, indicating the shift she wore.

It was a redundant question. There had been a time when Skrulls had lived by different laws, but those who tried to uphold old principles of consent and sharing became fewer with each cycle. It was survival of the ruthless. Tank was a survivor.

“I think you can figure that out by yourself,” Tank snorted, pulling her arm away from Soren’s touch. “I’m not in her skin because I enjoy it, you know. Not like General Handsome downstairs.” She finished on a wistful note with a sigh.

Soren coughed. “That… was just temporary.”

“Of course it was,” Tank smiled knowingly. Soren groaned.

“We’re a little old for that sort of thing.”

“I’m the same age as you, aren’t I?”

The banter died out when Soren looked seriously at her, preparing for the seashell to clamp down. “Tank, what happened? Why are you here?”

Tank deflected her sincerity with a shrug. “You were gone. Or so I thought. Juxa happened. I went solo after that. Then Jez and Mav showed up, we ran into Jorias and… well. That’s about it.”

Soren took Tank’s broad hand in her slim one. She didn’t pull away this time.

Soren spoke softly, “Not a day passed when I didn’t think the Kree would eventually find us. All they needed was to run a scan. It’s a small miracle they didn’t.”

“Everyone on that ship would have been dead if you hadn’t been there,” Tank said. Soren was startled. “I know you built a growing chamber. And patched the life support systems over and over. And that protein-growing bacteria...”

Soren shook her head, shy to the praise. “How do you know all this?”

Tank looked down on their joined hands with a smile. “I asked anyone who knew anything.”

“Except me.”

“Except you.” Tank said with warmth. “But you would never have told me.”

Affection blossomed inside Soren. A pressure released between them. The air seemed lighter. Tank reached to touch her, thick calloused fingers gently tracing her face, ear, neck and collarbone. Soren wished Tank would change back. She wanted her friend’s face, not this coarse, lumbering stranger.

“Come back to me,” Soren whispered.

Tank bent so her forehead rested against Soren’s. “I will. I want to. I just need time to finish things here.”

“I understand.”

“Take this,” Tank took something from a pocket on her belt. “It’s just two-phase encryption but it’s better then nothing. If you have need of me, that’s how you reach me.” She pushed the little transmitter key in Soren’s hand. “And be safe. Please.”

They hugged until Tank gruffly reminded Soren that she was on watch duty.

***

Talos waited for Soren in the hallway, geared up and ready except for the mask. He helped her put on her disguise, and they exited into the dark city to find their way back to the port.

Walking across the circular junction, they heard a familiar squeak. The stall with the animals was in the same place as earlier, its owner asleep on a mattress under the counter.

Soren took a step towards the stall but Talos took her wrist. She made a protesting sound under her breath. “I promised to release it.”

“It won’t survive,” he said with a hushed voice.

“It will. It’s a smart creature.”

Arguing would only attract attention, so he released her arm and begged she knew what she was doing. The caged animals fell eerily silent as Soren approached. The owner probably relied on his creatures to alert him to any attempted thievery. Soren wasn’t a thief though. She reached the cage with the orcaz, undid the latches and the hatch sprung open. The furry animal crawled out and landed on the ground without a sound. Their gazes met for a moment, then it scurried away and was out of sight.

“See? No problem,” Soren whispered to Talos as they continued towards the port.

Back in the ship they kept the disguises on until they had put some distance between themselves and Exitar. As soon as they could safely take off the masks, Soren opened the jump point log.

“What are you doing?” Talos asked, still busy steering them free of traffic.

“Just looking.” 

The Hanzar’s jump log reached several cycles back. It was a requirement for commercial vessels but most ships had them installed, regardless. It was handy to have the list of IDs available. 

She drew a sharp breath. “Talos, look.”

He waited until he had steadied them on a course before he could look properly at the id she was pointing at. It was the jump point to Pallakor, as either final destination or first jump.

Talos let go of the control with one hand to skim further down the list. There were several logged jumps, reaching back a long time.

“Where did we get the Hanzar again?” Soren asked with a tight voice.

“Torfa. Salvaged from the colony, after the bombings. No idea who it belonged to before then; its previous owner might very well be dead.” Talos’s gaze was distant, his mind working, trying to understand the meaning of the discovery. He engaged the reverse thrusters, halting the ship. “Veranke’s from Torfa.”

“As are hundreds of others,” she reminded him.

Veranke’s words echoed in his head. “It’s her. It’s gotta be.” 

It made sense. How could he not have seen it before? A regretful voice in his heart said it was because he did not want to believe such things about his own kind. He wanted them to be better. To be nothing like the Kree. To be worthy of survival even if the Galaxy seemed hellbent on exterminating them.

He had lost track of time until the vote. All he had been thinking about was how to escape the outcome of it. He had acted like a coward.

“If we are going to stop her, we’ll need proof,” Soren continued his line of thought even if he hadn’t spoken aloud. There was an apprehensive edge to her voice.

Talos felt a smile tug on his lips at her being so animated at the thought of visiting the mysterious, hidden planet. He loved every bit of defiance in her, even when she drove him crazy.

“We leave at first sign of trouble. Even if it means turning at the jump point,” he warned.

“Agreed.”

Just like Carol liked to do, they shook hands.

Once on course towards the jump point, Soren moved to Talos side, leaning over him to start the comm transmitter. “It’s time we called Carol.”

“Wait,” he caught her hand. She looked perplexed. “Don’t tell her about the Hanzar’s jump log.”

“We can trust Carol,” Soren said with emphasis.

“She might not be their ally but she is fighting alongside the Kree right now. We can’t risk it.”

She scowled at him, seemingly offended on Carol’s behalf.

“She’ll understand,” he said with conviction. He wasn’t sure that was actually the case, but he wouldn’t risk any clue of Skrull involvement leaked to the Kree. Not least because the ones responsible would not be the ones killed in the following bombings.

“This is  _ my _ mission and you’re  _ wrong  _ to distrust her.” She jerked her hand free and he let her go, after which she promptly sat herself on his lap and started the comm. Talos wondered what exactly she did to him in these moments that made him at loss for words to argue with.

After a short wait, Carol’s appeared. Instead of her uniform, she was wearing a singlet. She looked tired and was holding something against her shoulder. Talos felt a sting of worry and had to remind himself that her strength wasn’t matched by her small physical statue.

Carol smiled weakly.  _ “Hi Soren.” _

“Carol, what’s happened?” Soren asked, concerned.

“ _ Oh, this?”  _ Carol held up the soft bundle she was pressing against her shoulder.  _ “It’s just an icepack. It’s my own fault; I was unobservant. I got hit by a ship.” _ She laughed dryly at the absurdity of the statement.  _ “So, did you find anything?” _

“I… well,  _ we _ did.”

“ _ We?” _

Talos leaned forward so that he appeared on Carol’s end. Soren explained, “I ended up going to Knowhere to access the Collector’s database. The one you told me about. Talos decided to come with me.”

“ _ I didn’t mean for you to put yourself at risk for this.” _

“She’s right,” Talos whispered in Soren’s ear, squeezing her thighs. She batted his hands away. He only moved them to her hips.

“We also met an old friend, and some new ones. Have I told you about Tank?”

“ _ No, I don’t think so. Is she a Skrull?” _

“The worst kind,” Talos muttered.

Soren laughed. “And the very best. She’s my oldest friend. One of her friends helped me access Tivan’s database. The Museum was closed, apparently something had been stolen.”

“ _ Stolen?” _

“It was just a rumor. The source of the dorc viral dna is a planet called Pallakor. It’s been removed from Kree records some time before Mar-vell’s death. But it still existed in the Collector’s database. I’ll send you its location. It’s easy to find if you know where to look, it’s just hidden from conventional nav charts.”

“ _ I can’t thank you enough for this.” _

“Don’t thank us yet,” Soren lamented. Talos once again tightened his hold on her. “We found evidence that Skulls from the Torfa colony have been to Pallakor. I looked at the Hanzar’s jump log.”

Carol looked confused, then disbelieving. _ “It could be a mistake. A wrongly calculated jump chain. It happens to everyone once in a while.” _

Soren shook her head. “It’s no coincidence. Too many direct entries and exits. I don’t like this either but I feel it’s my responsibility to investigate.”

“ _ You don’t know what’s there. It’s too dangerous.” _

“Don’t worry. Talos is here to reign me in.” Soren glanced sidewards at him. He wondered if she knew how seriously he took the task.

"I will. Trust me," he growled.

__ Carol smiled briefly, but was soon serious again.  _ “Send the location. I’ll call you as soon as this is over.” _

“How are things? At the colonies?” Soren asked.

Carol lowered her gaze. _ “It’s… it’s pretty grim. Four more planets have reported droc attacks. It just keeps coming. I only count the ones we rescue. It helps.” _

Soren tensed, closed her eyes and nodded. Talos bristled. The Kree didn’t deserve her sympathy.

“ _ Do you think Veranke might have something to do with the attack?”  _ Carol asked, trepidation in her voice. Neither replied immediately. Talos wondered if Carol had had the same dilemma as him, willfully ignoring the possibility of Skrulls being involved

“We don’t know,” Soren said at last. “It's possible.”

The words landed heavy. Talos needed Carol to understand, to voice his reservations even if it made no difference in the end. “If this comes to the Kree’s knowledge, they will spare no effort hunting down the last of us.”

“ _ Don’t worry, Talos.” _ Carol assured him.  _ “I know.” _

“Good. Be safe, Carol.”

“ _ You too. Bye.” _

“Bye."

The call ended and Soren moved back to her chair. Talos took the controls and prepared for the jump.

They met with the jump point's semi transparent hexagons. When Carol had asked what it felt like to shift, it was the nearest thing Talos could think of, as it felt like being pulled apart and put together in a fraction of a second.

On the other side was a star system largely obscured by vast swaths of particle clouds and asteroid fields. Unless one knew what to look for, this jump point would seem like a dead end.

“So, where do we go from here?” Talos asked.

A squeak made both of them freeze. There was a rattle at the back of the cabin. Something clattered to the floor as a small body made its way out of the pile of packs.

“You’ve got to be kidding me...” Talos sighed, head falling against the backrest, eyes screwed shut.

Soren’s mood buoyed. “Told you they’re smart.”

The orcaz came around Soren and jumped into her lap, cooing and looking expectantly at her. She stroked it’s back. “So smooth,” she said delightedly.

“Yeah, I know,” Talos couldn’t help himself from smiling. He dug into one of his pockets and found a small scrunched up bag, offering the orcaz a handful of its contents. It munched happily on the nuts. Next, he offered Soren some, holding his cupped hand under her chin.

She looked unimpressed, but he could see she was holding back a smile.

“You sure?” he teased.

She swatted his arm, making the nuts cascade to the floor. The orcaz darted from her lap, greedily chasing them across the cabin.

“It needs a name,” she said, looking affectionately at the animal.

“No it doesn’t.”

“Ace?”

He groaned and covered his face with his hand, hearing the futility in his own voice. “We’re not keeping it!”

Soren called over her shoulder. “Come here, Ace!”

***

The recording ended. Yon-rogg felt cold creep down his spine and wind itself around his stomach.

Carol was leaking information to the Skrulls. Of course she was. They had twisted her into trusting them and still she walked in their leash. The affection in her voice when she spoke to that Soren was especially concerning. Concerning in a deprived, gut-wrenching, heart-aching kind of way. How long ago it seemed since Carol’s voice had greeted him with the same warmth.

He was in the Aegis’s communion chamber, pacing back and forth, trying to make sense of his conflicting emotions.

Once, as a young recruit, he had plunged through the ice sheet on a lake, sub-freezing water piercing every part of his body like knives. It had happened during an exercise and his commander had swiftly fished him out of the water with their magnitron gauntlet. They told him that if he had tried to swim in that moment, he was as likely to swim downwards, as towards the surface.

Just as he was saved by his commander back then, he needed the Supremor to pull him out of his current confusion. He collected himself and moved to the pad, reaching his hands down to embrace the Supremor’s control.

The Supremor appeared, wearing his face as always, expression disdainful. “Yon-rogg. Have you come to tell me why the Weapon is not yet contained?”

Yon-rogg tensed. He had not expected this treatment. He spoke carefully, “At the moment, she is too valuable for the rescue of our citizens. She is also a source of intel on the Skulls.”

“Ah, yes! How deceptive of you,” the Supremor sneered and moved close.

Yon-rogg stammered, “Your Intelligence, I don’t understand.”

The Supremor’s voice was cold, the sarcasm gone. “The information you acquired is already known to us, Commander. We have intelligence operatives for that sort of thing. Meanwhile,  _ your _ standing orders were to win her trust and capture her.”

They raised their hand and let it hover in front of his face. He felt mortified, shame rising hot to his cheeks and fear churning in his gut.

“I fear your loyalty is adrift. As is your judgment.” Their hand burned him as they grasped his throat. He felt his skin sizzle. He couldn’t breathe. They leaned so close he felt the movement of their jaw against his, their voice low and intimate in his ear:

“Give me the Weapon, or share her fate, Commander.”

Instead of a slow fade out followed by a gentle awakening, he was thrown out of the simulation with such force he collapsed beside the pad. His hands moved gingerly over his throat, finding the skin intact despite the echo of pain in his body.

He drew a shuddering breath and forced himself from his crumpled position into sitting, carefully avoiding the communion pad. He was shivering, his breathing more like painful spasms than actual breaths. There was a beginning of a headache at his temples. An oily, nauseous feeling spread in his gut. He was thankful he had not yet eaten.

He rose on protesting legs and walked fast to the dorm where his bunk was. He set his time-keeper to wake him up in time before his next meeting with On-sar. Then he crashed on his bunk, immediately falling into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.


	11. Descent

“Commander.”

There was a woman in the room.

Yon-rogg felt like he was made of lead. As he tried to move, his head protested with renewed pains. He grit his teeth, forcing his body’s obedience.

“Commander,” the female voice said again, now with an impatient, exasperated edge.

He gingerly opened one eye, squinting at the light. Was it always this bright inside the Aegis? Sitting on the bunk opposite to his was a lean, blue-skinned, very beautiful woman in Starforce armor.

“Minn-erva,” he breathed.

She smirked. “I’m glad to see your memory is intact. Gave me quite a scare there, Commander.”

His mind jolted with confusion. The only explanation he could come up with, was;

“Am I dead? Is this the Collective?”

She laughed. A genuine, amused laughter. The way she did only when they were alone. “No, Commander. You’re not dead. Get moving, I have something to show you.”

He waited sitting down for the world to stop spinning. “Is this a simulation?”

Minn-erva rolled her eyes heavenward. “Please, enough with the questions. Now get up.” She stood and offered her hand. He took it, so unsteady on his legs that he nearly fell into her.

“What is happening?” He received only a stern look in response.

“Can you stand on your own?” she clipped. He steadied himself and nodded. She let go of his hand and walked out of the dorm and onward to the assembly area.

Yon-rogg followed, looking about anxiously, worried that someone from the team would appear. He was quite sure he wasn’t dreaming; he doubted he’d feel so miserable if he was.

Minn-erva took his arm and used his bracer to start the holographic display. He stood pliantly while she worked, absently wondering how it was possible for her to access his suit’s tech. She brought up a three dimensional map of the systems in the sector where they were doing the evacuations. Their current location shone as yellow marker.

“You’ve been on quite a merry little chase, Commander.”

“I wouldn't exactly call it that,” he grumbled. There was no point chastising a ghost for disrespectful behavior.

“And what is your plan now?” she said with a lofty voice that indicated she would soon make his answer redundant.

He studied her carefully. She looked back at him, unfazed with an arched eyebrow. Classic Minn. He laughed, a barely audible, breathy chuckle. If he wasn’t dead he was certainly losing his mind. She glared irritably at him, as if his thought offended her, but kept waiting for him to speak. 

He considered the map between them. The star systems were enlarged compared to the infinite space in between. Jump points were displayed as a dark orange. If he hovered his finger on one point, the adjoining exit points lit up.

The next four planets on route had reported attacks at about the same time, but the droc numbers differed between them. He let out a breath. “Using the duplication rate we can deduce in which order they were infected. However, priority is determined by settlement proximity.”

“Correct. But you knew that. What else is there? Think, Commander.”

He traced his index finger between the jump points, seeing which ones lit up in response. He swallowed, hard, seeing a pattern emerge. “We don’t have the full picture, Minn-erva. Only the Supremor knows what is the right course of action...”

“Commander,” she cut him off. “Tell me what you  _ see _ .”

He struggled against something he couldn’t define. Faith? Obedience? Necessary ignorance?

She repeated with patience growing strained, “ _What do you_ _see_ , Commander?”

“It could just be one ship.” The words came out with a defeated sigh, his head slumping. “It could be  _ one _ ship and we can track it’s course using the duplication rate and the time between the reported outbreaks.”

She nodded approvingly. “Congratulations, Commander. There’s hope for you still.”

Yon-rogg woke with a start.

The headache had lessened to a dull throb. He had no idea what just happened, if it had been a dream or something else, but hadn’t time to consider the possibilities. He looked at his time-keeper. Almost one hour before he was to meet with On-sar.

Though he was foremost known as a distinguished warrior, Yon-rogg’s personal pride was centered around himself as a leader and a strategist. A great strategist was worth a thousand great warriors.

He found a note board and a pen in one of the drawers and strode fast to the cockpit. Att-lass was still on the controls, but not Ta-rinn.

“Commander,” Att-lass acknowledged.

Yon-rogg only nodded absently, standing beside the pilot chair, bringing up the interface with logged emergency calls forwarded from command. He scribbled down the times of the reported attacks on the planets, along with the estimated hostile count. Then he walked back to the assembly area and brought up the same map Minn-erva had. Att-lass looked curiously over his shoulder. Yon-rogg paid him no notice.

He took notes of distances, entry- and exit- points. Then he closed the interface and walked to the co-pilot chair, placing the note board on the dash and began making his calculations, using his wrist computer to recall key parameters and figures.

“Quiet,” he said to Att-lass as the other looked like he was about to speak.

At the bottom of the page, he began making a list of conclusions.

The time between the outbreaks suggested a vessel of average speed. Slower than the Aegis. Good thing if it came to a chase. So far the planets infected had been on a path towards the Empire’s core worlds. If everything followed suit, that meant the planet next in line would be Cambril system, with an outbreak expected in four hours.

The Aegis could be there in five. And he still needed to inform On-sar. Then there was Carol, what would he say to her? He swore under his breath.

Part of him wondered if he shouldn’t be more worried about the Supremor’s opinion than of Carol’s. The truth, he realized, was that he had no intention of consulting either. Starforce would go after that ship, no matter what.

“Att-lass, gather everyone. There’s a change of plans.”

***

Carol got the call to briefing earlier than expected. She had managed to sleep a couple of hours but was awake when the call came. They were almost at the next jump point; she had to be either on the Aegis or the Nemesis or be left behind mid space.

“I’ll be right there,” she replied on the comm and started towards the Chevy’s hatch.

“ _ Wait,” _ Yon-rogg said. “ _ We have new orders. Starforce won’t be part of the next evac. On-sar will provide air cover for you; you’ll be fine. Everyone knows the drill by now.” _

“What are you going to do, then?”

She had no visual feedback but she could swear he was choosing his words carefully. “ _ We will follow a lead to Cambril system. With any luck, we might be able to interrupt whatever is causing the spread.” _

“Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you?” She heard the agitation in her own voice. Or was it fear? Odds were, Starforce were about to walk into a trap. There was no way for her to warn them without telling Yon-rogg what she knew of the Skrull’s involvement.

“ _ You’re needed planetside.” _

That was true. But still… “Tell me about this lead.”

“ _ It’s classified information.” _

She groaned. “Oh, please! I know everything there is to know about this mess!”

“ _ Not everything.” _

She licked her lips and felt a lump form in her throat. She swallowed against it, willing her voice to steady. “You don’t trust me.”

His breath brushed against the mic. He must be holding it close, speaking low into it to prevent the others from overhearing their conversation. _ “You’re choice of allies isn’t very trust inspiring, Carol.” _

She shouldn’t be surprised or hurt by his words, but she was. “I wasn’t given much of a choice, thanks to you.”

An exasperated sigh blew a din through the feedback. _ “There’s always a choice. Some can’t be unmade.” _

“You’re right, they can’t,” she bit back, unsure what else to say to curb the hot desperation rising in her chest.

Yon-rogg sounded calm and deliberate compared to her own turmoil.  _ “We are almost at the jump point. We will go to Cambril. Meet us there when the evacuation is over. I’ll let you know if we need backup.” _

He closed the call. Carol sagged into the pilot chair, blinking away tears of worry and hurt. 

The Nemesis trembled as its nose made contact with the jump point. She felt the familiar shift in pressure and the jolt through her body as she and Yon-rogg were magically transported dozens of light years away from each other.

_ I’m coming to end it. The war. The Lies. All of it. _ Her own words echoed hollowly in light of her current dilemma.

Carol was familiar with hate. Her first memory of it was hatred of the Skrulls. It was then replaced by hatred towards the Supreme Intelligence. But in this moment, she hated the  _ war _ , in all its unjust, dirty, ruthless forms. Perhaps, she thought, this was what Mar-vell had arrived at too. Had her former mentor felt like this, drenched in desperation and regret, wishing there was a way to save everybody? Had that been what had finally enabled her to bridge the divide between the two sides?

When Carol had said she would ‘finish what Mar-vell started’ it had been the simple idea of finding the Skrull’s a home. But that was only part of it.

Mar-vell had wanted to end the war.

***

Pallakor was, as far as they could tell from their orbital view, lifeless. A dry, terracotta colored, endless desert, interrupted by mountain ridges like a wide-meshed net. Talos had turned the Hanzar so the shield was angled towards the planet while they slowly floated in orbit. Soren used the ship’s meager scanning capabilities to search for anomalies. So far all they had been able to deduce of it’s fate were the signature crates of the Accuser ballistic missiles.

“I think it’s pretty clear what happened here,” Talos commented.

“Do you?” Soren mumbled from where she was skimming the infrared feedback. Ace was asleep on top of the dashboard, their belly fuller than it had been for years.

“Yeah. The Kree did what they typically do when they encounter something that scares them.” He leaned over and caressed her arm. “There’s nothing left.”

“I’m hungry,” she smiled sweetly. “Let’s eat and if the scanner hasn’t found anything then we’ll turn around. Go home.”

“Agreed,” he rose and kissed her temple, walking back to their packs to find the rations they brought for the trip.

As soon as she was sure he was preoccupied, she slowly moved a hand to flick the switch that would start the ship’s broad-spectrum hail signal. If, by chance, there was anything on the planet that had a stand-by beacon or any kind of transmitter that wasn’t encrypted, they would get a response from it. It wasn’t without risk; they were basically shouting to the entire star system who and where they were.

Talos appeared with two metal bowls of re-hydrated rations and round flat breads cut in halves. He handed her one of the meals. They turned the chairs to face each other. She had taken off her boots previously. Now she placed her feet on his lap. He looked bemusedly at her. She slid down a little and made herself comfortable.

“I wasn’t aware you were needing a footstool,” he quipped but stroked her leg affectionately with his free hand.

“You are much nicer to look at than a footstool. Warmer, too.” She moved her feet to his sides, digging her toes in between his back and the backrest. He shifted to accommodate her.

Really, she just wanted to make sure he didn’t turn towards the dashboard and spotted the angrily blinking lamp below the hail switch.

She hadn’t been lying when she said she was hungry. She had to force herself to eat slowly to buy time for her last desperate attempt. Talos finished his food quickly and then looked curiously at her nibbling.

“What’s going on?”

She swallowed a spoonful to disprove him. “Nothing.”

Just then, the hail beeped. Talos’s jaw dropped and he divested himself of her feet, turning to the dashboard. “You didn’t just...” He muted the alert signal and turned back to her, expression somewhere between indignation and frustration.

“That means there’s a beacon,” she informed unnecessarily. “There’s something down there.”

Ace, roused by the signal, jumped from the dash to Talos’s lap, reaching for his bowl. He pushed them away with an annoyed growl. Soren clicked her tongue to attract them to her instead. “We had to try every option.”

“By hailing the Kree to our position in a foreign star system?”

“There aren’t any Kree here, Talos,” she assured him, holding her bowl of food away from Ace, at last surrendering the remaining part of her bread to them.

“They will become a real nuisance at this rate if you keep treating them like that,” he warned.

“Ace is just starved, it’ll get better. Let’s see what’s on those coordinates, shall we?”

Talos didn’t touch the controls.

“Are you cross?”

“Yes.”

“Because I tricked you?”

“Maybe. Yes,” he conceded. “If I’m going to keep you safe you can’t do that sort of thing.”

Soren set her bowl to the floor, letting Ace have what was left in it. Wetting her lips, she tried to express herself clearly without hurting him. “Our lives have never been safe. Maybe our children’s lives could be though. If we are successful.”

“I hope you’re right.” Talos drew a deep breath, then took the controls and began steering them down towards the planet, guided by the shining beacon on the radar.

Closer to the surface they saw remains of building foundations, with the occasional taller structure intact reaching above the others. The beacon led them to a valley between two pointy mountains ridges, their peaks bare and red despite the altitude.

“The Kree extinguished all life. Nothing left to absorb carbon dioxide,” Soren told him. “We should expect high temperatures and low oxygen levels.”

Talos landed them on a flat roof, keeping the engines engaged until he was sure the structure held the ship’s weight. Then they opened a compartment in the back of the ship to find the emergency equipment stored there; rebreather masks, flashlights, atmosphere test tube and radiation meters. They also fitted their comm discs and brought their blasters and wrist comms.

Ace would have to stay in the Hanzar. Soren gave them a bowl of treats to prevent them from following.

Stepping outside, they were met by a wave of hot, dry air. Talos skirted the rooftop to survey the surroundings while Soren tested the air for toxicity and radiation.

“The entrance is just below us,” Talos looked over the edge of the roof, leaning as much as he dared to get a better look. “Looks like we’re going underground.”

“I’m not surprised. Whatever they did here probably wasn’t about public relations.” Soren said. “Radiation levels are low, which suggests it was a long time since the planet was bombed. Toxicity is low, too. The air is breathable to us, except low oxygen will make us pass out after a while.”

A steep ramp offered a way from the roof to ground level. The entrance to the facility was a reinforced double door. Soren dusted off its surface. There were hardly discernible Kree glyphs on the door, worn down by weather and sunlight. They shared a glance, both nodding in agreement to proceed. Talos drew his blaster and pushed the door ajar. He slipped in and waved for Soren to follow.

They turned on their flashlights. Inside was a wide corridor. Along its walls were sliding doors marked with Kree numbers. Some were open, some half closed. A power lever shone it’s dull emergency light through the dark. They wouldn’t switch on the power; there was no way of knowing who or what that might alert. The air was comfortably cool compared to the outside. A slight drought brought with it a smell of moist metal and filled the space with a low, eerie waul.

“What is this place?” Talos whispered.

“A laboratory.” Soren shone her flashlight on a turned over push trolley with test-tubes and metal cases. All looked like it hadn’t been touched for ages, surfaces dulled by a layer of oxidized metal.

The corridor continued in the same way until they arrived at a wide set of sliding doors. Kree glyphs spelled ‘clearance required’ with angry red colors across the entire wall. The doors were ajar, one of them slightly off its hinges. Talos peered through and turned back to her.

“It’s a staircase. There’s a light at the bottom.”

She drew her blaster, too. They squeezed through the narrow opening and walked down the grate stairs. Below their feet a pale light shone brighter and brighter. When they reached the bottom, they looked into a corridor like the first they had entered. Soren wondered how long the same pattern continued, how many layers of Kree science secrets one could find here.

She took up the atmosphere tester and now the oxygen level was much higher. “We can take off the masks.” They did, fastening the masks to their belts.

The light came from the first sliding door. Soren nodded towards it. Talos moved first. They walked down a sloping hallway, which opened up into a rectangular room. The far wall had a glass shield reaching halfway down to provide a view into the next room, but at the moment there was only blackness on the other side. There were two doors on either side of the room. In front of the glass shield was a workbench littered with laboratory equipment. Beside it were terminals of various size and function that looked aged, along with a retrofitted terminal that looked much newer, and familiar. Skrull made. Soren’s heart sank.

“What in the name of the old gods have they been doing here?” Talos hissed.

Soren turned to see what he was looking at. The wall behind her was splattered with dark turquoise. Kree blood, dried and oxidized.

“Let’s find out,” she said. “Maybe some of this tech works.”

She experimentally pushed the keyboard on one of the older terminals. Kree glyphs appeared on the screen, prompting for a password. She turned to the retrofitted terminal instead. A paragraph of text appeared on the screen.

“It’s Skrull,” she stated. “A poem.”

“A poem?”

“‘Bones were crushed below the weight of mountains. Their shade long and deep, death bestowed. Of stars and dreams born, their lofty tower rose. Bones defiant of mountains, revenge have sworn. The star exists.’”

“Too bad to be a poem.” Talos approached to take a closer look. “It’s a riddle. Type ‘Hala’.”

She looked skeptically at him, but did as he suggested. The screen blackened, then lit up again.

“It worked. I’m in,” she said, astonished. “How did you..?”

“Hala is one word for  _ star _ in Kree. And in ancient Skrull,  _ exist _ and  _ is _ are interchangeable. So if you read the last line as ‘The star is...’ it becomes a query. Pretty nifty. A Kree with a translator could never figure it out.” He grinned at her baffled expression and kissed her temple. “I’m not just good looks, my dear.”

She smiled and gently pushed him away with her palm. “You have some shiny moments. I’ll admit that. Now shut up and let me work so we can get out of here.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he said, backing away from her towards the hallway. “I’ll keep watch.”

Soren sifted through the file system. It was well cataloged, all reports and logs ordered by date. She opened the earliest.

_ Sample found on coordinates 207-556;490-220. Severe tissue damage and decay. Viral dna intact. Viral replication in blood samples successful. Will begin search for suitable subjects. _

She moved forwards in time.

_ Subjects 1-32 all died within two to twenty-one standard subreqs after exposure to viral infection. Higher age seems to lead to faster deterioration. Subject 33, age pre-adolescent… _

She closed the file, a sick lump forming in her gut, tears rising in her eyes. Talos stood still at the top of the sloping hallway, looking into the dark. Reluctantly, she opened the next file.

_ Subject 33 dead within thirty standard subreqs. New tissue sample found on coordinates 104-889;409-100. Subject 34 exposed and successful morphing after four subreqs. _

By now, she began to see how things were tied together. “Talos,” she beaconed. “I think I know what happened here.” He walked towards her while she spoke. “The drocs were created by Kree, by accident, I assume. As a result, Pallakor was destroyed and its existence hidden. But someone, a Skrull by the looks of it, found out, and managed to salvage enough genetic material to recreate them. To use as a weapon.” Her voice gave way. “They even made tests on children.”

She felt his warmth behind her and leaned back into his embrace. He holstered his blaster and wrapped his arms around her, speaking softly. “Neither of us should be surprised, considering what the Kree have done to our people. Each transgression leads to another. That’s the way of war.”

“I know, I know,” she sobbed into his neck.

“Is there anything we can take with us from here?” He didn’t sound rushed but she understood his meaning; they shouldn’t linger.

She sniffed back the tears and tried to compose herself. “I think so. But I’ll have to look further to find proof of who is responsible. Images or recordings. Names.”

“Alright. Do that.”

Both started as a gust of air howled through the corridor outside, only to be gone a moment later. Soren held her breath.

“Someone’s here,” Talos gritted and released her. “Or something. Hide. Keep your blaster ready.”

His walk was different now. Deliberate and controlled. Quiet like a predator. Blaster in one hand, knife in the other. She took cover behind a corner and waited. A small eternity passed when she only heard the low wail from the drought and quiet rustle from the terminal. Then she heard steps approaching. Slow and deliberate. Her grip on her blaster hardened.

“Don’t worry. It’s just me.”

Talos.

She relaxed and stepped out, only to stare straight into the barrel of a blaster. Instinctively, she took a step back but the other stepped after, pressing it hard into her cheek.

“Shhh… Not a word,” a Skrull wearing Talos’s face commanded. They were wearing a regular tech overall and a tool belt. She nodded tensely, mind racing through a multitude of possibilities. “Give me the gun,” they said. She did. “Take off your wrist comm and give it to me.” Soren obeyed, praying Talos would appear any moment and shoot the interloper from behind.

They obviously weren’t a warrior, or they would not make the mistake of standing with their back against the opening. Even in her compromised position, she had some hope she might be able to outmaneuver this rookie.

When they had taken her comm, they took her arm and shoved her in front, facing the dark corridor, gun pressed painfully against the base of her skull. “Now move.”

She walked too slowly at first. They pushed the blaster harder into her neck. She grunted and obliged. They lead her to the staircase. When she set her foot on the first step, Talos called her via the comm disc.

“ _ I’m on my way back. Have you heard anything?” _

Her captor instructed, “Answer him. Tell him to meet you by the Hanzar. On the ground below the roof.”

She tried to turn around to look them in the eye but they squeezed her arm harder, powerful with their stolen strength. The gun once again pressed painfully into her. “Do it.”

Slowly, she lifted her free hand to the disc on her collar and pushed the button. “Meet me outside, on the ground below the Hanzar.”

“ _ What? Soren -” _ Talos’s voice trailed off and she realized he understood.

“Move,” they ordered. She walked up the stairs as fast as she could with them holding her arm and pressing the gun to her head. Talos was quickly closing in on them, she heard him run up the stairs below them.

“Keep your distance, General, or she dies.”

Talos slowed his step. Soren made an attempt to look over her shoulder but a push of the barrel stopped her. Not that she had to look. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, she heard Talos growl and snarl through his breath.

***

Talos slowed down as ordered. Meanwhile, he nurtured a fantasy about ripping out the interloper’s throat with his hand, seeing them crumble back into their true form. Fear for Soren’s life was the single thing holding him back, as every muscle in his body ached to lunge forward.

He cursed his own stupidity; he had wandered off too far.

They arrived at the door leading outside. Soren made a move to put on her mask but her captor stopped her, walking both of them into the deficient atmosphere outside.

Talos quickly donned his mask before exiting.

“Wait right there, General,” Talos heard his own voice echo from the other side of the door, followed by them instructing Soren. “Put the mask on me.”

It seemed, unfortunately, their enemy wasn’t a complete idiot. Talos wondered how long Soren would last.

“Alright, you can come out,” the other said. Talos shuffled through the opening just as Soren was being forced up the ramp leading to the roof. He walked backwards from the building to get a better view, constantly watching Soren. She was already winded.

He waited, blaster trained on the edge of the roof. He could only see the Hanzar’s nose from here. There was a hiss of changing pressure and a jar from the hatch opening. After that, Soren was forced forward to the edge of the roof. Talos's breath tightened. He met her gaze. She looked scared, but collected. She was doing something with her free hand; fiddling with a small, shiny object. The comm disc.  _ Smart girl. _ Talos commended her with a slight nod. The discs could be set to either press-and-talk, or automatic. Soren was struggling to change the setting with one hand.

The other Skrull renewed their hold on her arm, pressing the gun to the side of her head. They looked down at Talos, who showed his teeth and snarled.

“Take off your comm,” they demanded.

“Fight me, coward!” he growled back.

“Comm on the ground,  _ now _ ,” they repeated their order, tugging at Soren’s arm for emphasis.

Reluctantly, Talos clipped off the comm bracelet and let it single to the ground, holding up his empty wrist as proof.

“Now shoot it,” the other said.

Talos saw Soren’s hand slip the comm disc into one of their pockets. He lowered his blaster to the comm and fired. It sparked and broke into pieces.

“Good. We’re almost done,” the other continued with jarring satisfaction. “Now, remove the energy cell. Throw it to your left. Gun to your right.”

Soren was struggling to stay conscious now. If she passed out, she would fall. Talos followed the order, removing the energy cell from the grip, throwing it and the blaster itself at a safe distance from each other.

Suddenly, the Skrull screamed, let go of Soren and turned to shoot at something behind them. Angry animal chatter was heard between the blaster bolts. Soren swayed a moment after being released before she sagged down on her knees and collapsed on the roof’s edge. But she didn’t fall. The commotion behind her ended and the Hanzar’s engines began firing up. Talos jogged backwards a few steps to get a clear view through the ship’s front shield. He did have one last card left to play, he realized.

The way shifting worked, a Skrull’s body would always know the true nature of the one it simmed. If one tried to turn into a Skull who was already shifted, the result was always the Skrull beneath.

Talos forced himself to relax and reach out with his power, focusing on the Skrull behind the Hanzar’s shield. Shifting was harder under stress, but Talos was, without exaggeration, better at it than most. The other seemed oblivious to his intention, their attention focused on preparing the craft for liftoff. Talos’s body rippled with the shift at the same time that the Hanzar took off.

He ran up the ramp and across the roof to Soren’s side, ripped off his breathing mask and put it on her. The lack of oxygen affected him immediately. How had Soren lasted so long? Admiration filled him as his breath quickened and his heart struggled to aerate his body.

“Come on,” he whispered, rocking her gently.

She began to stir, slowly opening her eyes, gaze groggy and unfocused. Her eyebrows drew together with confusion. “Vorik?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and the idea for the thing Talos does at the end, taking the ‘true form’ of another Skrull, comes from the [Wraith](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20048968/chapters/47478976) by DenseHumboldt.


	12. Unravel

Talos watched the other’s reflection in the rebreather visor. Younger than him. Taller. 

_ Vorik. _

The tech guy. Inconspicuous in his quiet brilliance. Trusted with access to every system, every vessel in their fleet. Hiding behind a benign facade of curiosity and helpfulness. Talos couldn’t tell if the sudden dizziness was asphyxia or the implications of the disclosure unraveling before him.

Soren, still half lying in his embrace, was now fully awake. “Talos, it’s you,” she said, relieved, patting his chest. “That was some quick thinking.” She moved to sit on her own, took off the mask and turned it to his face.

The fresh oxygen lightened the fog in his brain “Did you ever suspect...?”

She shook her head, holding her breath to preserve oxygen. They rose and Talos handed the mask back to her. She looked around. “What happened to Ace?”

Talos had forgotten entirely about their little furry savior. On the edge, near the start of the ramp, was a crumpled, dust-covered form. Soren took a few running steps towards it and fell to her knees. She stroked the limp body with her free hand. 

“I’m so sorry Ace,” she mourned.

“They protected you,” Talos said, already breathless.

“I shouldn’t have released them," she lamented, drew another breath and gave him the mask.

“I am very glad you did. Vorik was going to throw you off the roof.” He offered her his hand, pulling her back on her feet. “There’s nothing we can do except to be grateful. Come on.”

They began to make their way down the ramp while taking turns breathing. Both startled as the comm disc came live.

“ _ What happened, are they dead?”  _ It was a woman's voice, echoing through the Hanzar’s comm, making it hard to identify.

“ _ No,”  _ Vorik replied, sounding tight-bitten.  _ “But there’s nowhere for them to go. I have taken back father’s ship, the one I used isn’t going anywhere, and they have no comms.” _

The woman’s voice softened with concern. “ _ I was worried you might have underestimated Talos.” _

“ _ I took his form. He would do anything to protect his woman, that is his weakness.” _

Talos snarled and moved his hand to the speaker button, prepared to give the traitor a piece of his mind. Soren grabbed his wrist, shaking her head. 

“ _ You did the right thing,”  _ the woman commended.

They had reached the door. Once inside, they pushed it shut. A narrow ray of light made its way through, shining between them where they stood close together.

Vorik again. “ _ How are things proceeding on your end? Has the council voted?” _

“ _ Not yet. I’m waiting to be summoned.”  _ She was suspenseful, sure of victory.

Talos gritted, “It’s Veranke.” Soren lay her hands on his where he held the comm disc between them. Perhaps to prevent him from calling Vorik on an angry impulse.

She was right. He was seething. Somewhere in the logic part of his brain that wasn’t preoccupied with anger, the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. But why had Veranke gone through the trouble of placing a mole in his crew?

“ _ Is Danvers still with the Kree?”  _ Vorik asked.

Of course. Not  _ his _ crew; Carol’s.

Veranke sighed melodramatically. “ _ Yes. Still saving the day. Unfortunately it seems our operation on the colonies will come to an end soon. We’ll need the Accusers off our backs a little longer.” _

“ _ Is everything in place on Earth?” _ Both started at the mention of Carol’s home planet. Soren searched Talos’s face for a clue if he knew anything and he shook his head.

“ _ The weapon is ready. I need you there, too.” _

“ _ I’m on my way.” _

“ _ One more thing,” _ Veranke’s voice lowered a notch, “ _ about the Accusers.” _

“ _ You intend to let them chase Talos’s planet.”  _ Vorik sounded exasperated. As if they had discussed the option before.

“ _ If you have any friends on the pristine rock, tell them to leave.” _

The air left Talos’s lungs. Soren’s fingers dug into his hands.

Vorik growled, “ _ They will not send their entire Accuser fleet against a bunch of settlers that a single strike team could take out. Better leave it. We’ll think of something else.” _

The connection began to waver as the distance increased. Veranke's voice came through between bursts of static. “…  _ the Kree giant is stung, it lashes out irrationally… …will go. When they realize… … throw their anger at it...” _

Vorik again.  _ “… you say so.” _ More static followed, now drowning out the voices completely.

Then the line went dead.

“Indes...” Soren whimpered. Talos could only respond by gathering her close in his arms, his voice lost in a rapidly deepening pit of fear.

The people on  _ Soren _ were defenseless and they had no way of warning them. Their daughter would be playing on the lichen fields by the time the Accuser warships appeared, ending both her and the beautiful planet’s life before it had even started. And Carol too had people she cared for and had left behind unprotected.

But Talos still wore Vorik’s skin and memories. There had to be some way to get off Pallakor. How did Vorik come here?

Soren began to stir in his embrace, frantically digging for something in her pockets, eventually presenting a small cylinder with a gleaming metallic contact on one end. She spoke fast and urgently.

“A hail response led us to this place. That means there’s a transmitter or a beacon here. Either will work. If we find it, I can call Tank with this.”

Talos took the small object. It looked makeshift. “What is it?”

“A transmission key. It works like the comm discs but across jump points. Tank has its mate.”

Talos closed his eyes, searching Vorik’s memories of the place. “There’s a hangar. There’s a transmitter there. And a ship.” He opened his eyes, laughing to himself. Vorik was brilliant but he clearly hadn’t expected this outcome. “Vorik used one of the Mar-vell’s drop ships. He removed and hid its nav core. In case he had to use it again.”

“Good, good,” she nodded energetically, her face set with determination. “But let’s start by contacting Tank. She can get to the others sooner than we can get out of here.” 

Talos went to fetch and reassemble the blaster. Then they began following the trail of Vorik’s memories. It led them down the staircase and through the lower corridor, until it split into three narrower paths. Standing in the junction, Talos got an unnerving recollection of himself foolishly wandering off into the darkness, leaving Soren alone.

“Everything ok?” Soren asked, stopping by his side.

“Sure, let’s go.” Talos stalked down the rightmost path. It sloped downwards, ending at a sliding door with a keypad beside it. He let Vorik’s fingers work on their own and the door opened with a whoosh.

On the other side was a dark, vast space, their footsteps echoing against distant walls. Talos turned the flashlight around; its beam hardly made it to the other side of the hangar. A power lever like the one by the entrance gleamed in the dark. Soren pulled it down. There was a rustle of electricity igniting innumerable circuits and the ceiling lit up like a wave from their end to the gates on the other side. The hangar was large enough to fit a freighter, making the Kree dropship in its middle look like a bug.

There was a workbench with tools spread out. And a transmitter. Vorik had left with the assumption that they couldn’t use it without their wrist comms to provide a signal code, but the key from Tank would work regardless, albeit only to call her.

Soren worked quickly, opening a panel on the side, pulling out a circuit board, taking out two wires from it and connecting them to either side of the key’s contact. Then she powered it up again. After a few moments, Tank’s voice came through, groggy from sleep.

“ _ Soren, is that you?” _

“Tank!” Soren exclaimed with relief, talking fast. “Yes, it’s me. You have go to  _ Soren – _ the planet not me. Veranke is going to leak its location to the Kree. She’s behind the attack on the Kree colonies, too.”

Somewhat confused, Tank mumbled through a yawn, _ “Ok.. sure. You’re not back home then, I take it?” _

“We are…. We went to Pallakor.” Soren sounded almost guilty. “We got jumped by one of Veranke’s people. He took our ship. We’re grounded with no comms. ”

There was silence for a moment, likely Tank trying to digest the sudden burst of information. A rustle of movement in the background told them she made her way out of bed and began to dress. “ _ Then how did Veranke’s goon get there?” _

“There’s a dropship. We might get it to work, but not fast enough. Please, please Tank you have to go warn them. Indes is there, too...”

“ _ Okay. But just to be sure:” _ Tank said with a gleeful yet serious tone.  _ “Your first kiss, when was that?” _ There was an awkward silence where Talos looked at Soren, brow raised. Soren bristled.

“Tank this is serious.”

“ _ I am completely serious. This is all a little sudden and I have to know it’s really you.” _

Soren groaned, “Fine. Raxon Prime. Drink or dare.”

Tank chuckled. _ “Okay, it’s you. And it was pretty good for a first kiss, you should be proud.” _

Talos looked bemusedly at the blush rising on Soren’s face, but took pity on her, bringing the conversation back to business. “At  _ Soren,  _ you’ll pick up a hail from the  _ Mar-Vell _ , a Kree imperial cruiser. We set the hail on standby so new arrivals can find their way. The cruiser’s life support can take roughly one hundred souls, more if some are younglings. Take them to the Council’s fleet, they will be safe there for the time being.”

Tank purred low with a bedchamber voice, “ _ Are you saying I get to fly your ship, General?” _

Soren hid her smile with her hand. Talos gruffed, “You do,  _ Captain.  _ Just get our daughter and our people out of there.”

In a rare moment of solemnness, Tank became serious.  _ “I will, I promise.” _

Talos continued, “If you have means to contact the Council, warn them about Veranke. If she’s prepared to use our planet as bait to the Kree there’s no knowing what her next move might be.”

“ _ I’ll try, but I’m not sure they’ll take my word for it.”  _ The sound of movement stilled for a moment. _ “I might have overstepped when I offered them my opinion after Juxa.” _

“Might have?” Soren said with a raised brow.

“ _ Buy me a bottle of Nadiirian when this mess is over and I will disclose the exact words.” _ Tank huffed like she lifted something. _ “I’m gonna grab some rations and water, then I’ll be on my way. I’m leaving the signal key with Mav.” _

Soren protested, “But then we won’t be able to call you.”

Tank snorted,  _ “Mav can help you. I’ll be stuck on a ship and bored out of my skull. Which one do you prefer?” _

Soren opened her mouth and closed it again. 

“I’ll take Mav,” Talos said hurriedly.

_ “You sure? I hear I’m quite entertaining.” _

“Just don’t die Tank,” Soren said.

_ “I’ve not been very good at it so far, have I? Besides, aren’t you the ones in a pinch at the moment?” _

“We’ve survived worse.”

“ _ Then had you better survive this too, Little Soren. Over and out.” _ With that, Tank closed the call.

***

Cambril was a two-sun system named after its only habitable planet. A red giant was circled by a miniature blue one in close orbit, locked in a beautiful deadly dance. Yon-rogg felt a distinct kinship with the dwarf star. He knew what it meant to be inexorably drawn to someone who could crush you.

The planet itself was a tropical mining colony, blue-green and lush even from the far distance they were watching. It pained Yon-rogg to know this world too would be a pit of ashes when this was over. According to his calculation, the infection already had a foothold here. Help would come, but too late. He lay his concern aside; he had to focus where he could make a difference.

The Aegis was hovering by the jump point located at one of Cambril’s moons. If he had been correct, the target vessel should appear any moment. Att-lass held the flight controls. Ta-rinn was in the copilot chair, watching the radar. A dot appeared on it.

“This is Kree Starforce requesting identification.” Ta-rinn’s voice was formal as she hailed the approaching vessel. She got no response.

“Is there an ID?” Yon-rogg asked.

“Nothing,” Ta-rinn said before she repeated the hail call.

The radar showed the vessel coming to an abrupt halt, then turning the other way. Yon-rogg nodded to Att-lass who had already set them in motion.

While they were in pursuit, Ta-rinn followed protocol by sending three warnings with one minute between each. If the vessel did not respond or couldn’t offer valid credentials, they were authorized by the Empire’s law to board or fire.

Slowly, Yon-rogg began to make out the fleeing ship from the starry background. It looked large. Likely a freighter. “How long until we are within firing range?”

“One minute,” Att-lass replied promptly.

Yon-rogg considered their options. He knew the standard procedure in a case like this; blow the ship out of the galaxy. Any contagious elements would be burnt away, the threat dealt with efficiently and without losses.

But he had doubts. Strong doubts. Dangerous doubts.

“We’ll need to board,” he said, more to himself than others. Then louder, “Att-lass, disable their main propulsion. Aim for the afterburn chamber, that’ll vent their fuel into space without causing an explosion.”

The Aegis quickly gained on the much bigger freighter. Two well-placed shots at the rear propulsion outlet caused a shallow explosion. The Aegis shook a moment as its shield absorbed the shock wave from the blast. Then they speed up again, regaining their lost momentum. 

The freighter was now dead in space; its course and speed unchangeable. Soon they were side by side with it, its shade swallowing them, an ominous black and bulging silhouette against the light from the suns. A faint, green glow illuminated its few viewports. 

Yon-rogg considered his next course of action. He looked at his three remaining team-members, one at a time, while he spoke. “Standard protocol in a case like this would be to destroy the suspected source. With good reason. Boarding that freighter is more likely to be a trap than anything else. But it's the only way to secure any evidence of who is responsible for the attack.”

Everyone was quiet with anticipation. Yon-rogg searched his feelings for what it was that he wanted to say, other than just handing out orders as usual. As Starforce operatives, none of them were averse to danger. But this was different. He was breaching protocol, acting on instinct; gut feeling. “I will not order any of you to come with me.”

Bron-char immediately took a step forward. “I agree with your assessment. I’m with you, Commander,” he rumbled, placing a steady hand on Yon-rogg’s shoulder.

“I too will lay down my life for the good of all Kree,” Att-lass said solemnly.

Ta-rinn, who had served the shortest amount of time, hesitated, her eyes trained on Att-lass. The other’s eyes flicked a moment to meet hers with a look of overwhelming sadness.

With a stab, Yon-rogg realized what he saw; the hesitation from both warriors so familiar it made his heart ache. Perhaps it was because he was already walking the thin line between enterprise and defection, that he wished to let both of them off the hook. “Ta-rinn, I would appreciate it if you stayed on the Aegis. If things go badly, we need someone to report back.”

Ta-rinn paled a little, but nodded in acknowledgment. Yon-rogg saw the instant relief in Att-lass's posture, and the smallest nod of gratitude. How far they all were from the Kree ideal in this moment, he thought. United in their deficiency.

“Get ready; full armor, close combat firearms and shock grenades.”

Roughly five minutes later, the Aegis entered the deep shade of the freighter’s docking bay, All of it was dark save for the green-yellow emergency lights guiding them into its belly.

Everyone was ready. Yon-rogg lowered the ramp and walked first into the dark. His suit reacted to the surroundings, instantly shielding him from an insufficient atmosphere. Life support had either been shut down, or removed from auxiliary areas. Bron-char and Att-lass followed close behind.

The door opened without a code. The main hallway on the other side was dark, save the eerie green glow of the emergency lights. Yon-rogg ordered everyone silent. They moved in close formation towards the freighter’s bow. Along their path were a series of doors leading to different cargo holds.

The door to the bridge was locked. Yon-rogg gestured ‘breach’. Att-lass pulled the pin on two shock-grenades, holding them ready in his hand. Yon-rogg fired on the lock mechanism and Bron-char forced the door open a sliver, enough for Att-lass to toss the grenades inside. After the explosion, they entered. And found only bodies.

Strewn out across the floor were dead Skrulls.

“Check for life signs on all hostiles,” Yon-rogg ordered. They systematically checked each body. There were a dozen of them, each holding a syringe or lying close to one. Suicide. It was not unheard of. Fanatics would sometimes prefer a clean death rather than the risk of being captured and interrogated. Skrull terrorists were no exception. The bodies were still warm.

From their attire Yon-rogg made the conclusion that they had been shifted into independent shippers or merchants. Both common enough trades to not raise suspicion on the worlds they visited.

“Commander,” Bron-char beaconed from where he stood by the main controls together with Att-lass. “This one’s still breathing.”

Yon-rogg strode over to them. A male Skrull had collapsed in the captain’s chair, still holding a syringe in a cramped grip. Yon-rogg grabbed the creature by its collar, giving it a brusque shake. It seemed whatever poison it had used hadn’t had the desired effect, because the Skrull roused, slowly opening its bleary eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Yon-rogg growled. “What’s on this ship?”

When the Skrull didn’t answer, he let go of his grip. It collapsed on the floor with a groan, then tried to crawl away. He stalked after, pressing his heel against its neck until it gave up the pathetic escape attempt. His mouth curled with disgust.

The Skrull grimaced and spluttered, “Kill me and be done with it, Kree.”

Yon-rogg leaned harder on the foot pressing into its neck. “We have ways of making you talk. Die fast here, or slow later. Your choice. What is this ship?”

“You’re too late,” it hissed through the pain he was causing it.

Yon-rogg laughed dryly. “I get that a lot. So far it’s always proved untrue.” He turned to Att-lass. “Put restraints on it. Take it with us to the Aegis. Then we’ll check the cargo, see what they’ve got here.”

The Skrull began to laugh deliriously until Yon-rogg kicked it in the gut.

While Att-lass cuffed the Skrull, Bron-char examined the ship's main controls. “They’ve made a clean job of this, Commander. This freighter isn’t going anywhere, ever again.”

Yon-rogg looked to where Bron-char was pointing. An over-charger had been inserted into the control board, effectively frying the circuits until all that remained was the ship’s limbic emergency systems.

They dragged the prisoner back to the Aegis and Att-lass secured the half-conscious Skrull to the wall in the assembly area. Now remained the task to find out if this ship was the source of the spread. Interrogating the Skrull would take time. Time they couldn’t afford to lose in case Yon-rogg had been wrong in his assumptions.

“We will make a sweep of the cargo holds before we leave,” he declared. “Ta-rinn, watch the prisoner. If it annoys you, you are authorized to shoot its knees off.” The Skrull snarled once but quieted as Ta-rinn meaningly tapped her sidearm.

On their way to the bridge, they had passed five openings to different cargo decks, stacked diagonally along the ship. They fired on the lock on the first one and forced the doors open. Their suits’ night vision engaged to compensate for the dense darkness inside. The cargo sections were built like giant staircases. Along the ceiling was a rail where a crane would operate and move or release items through an opening in the lowest floor. This section was empty. They moved to the next. Just as they had opened the door to it, Ta-rinn called on the comm.

“ _ Commander, the Aegis’s scanners are picking up a lot of heat above the hangar. Might be a pressure buildup.” _

“Affirmative,” Yon-rogg replied, bit his lip and looked into the dark opening. “We’re almost done.” He wondered if he was being reckless or brave. “Bron-char and Att-lass, open the next door, I’ll check this one.”

He stepped through the door and looked around. On the shelves were empty medical pods. Lots of them. He walked along the catwalk up and down through the hold. There were more than a hundred pods in here. All of them were hooked up to a power supply, the cables like fat black worms crawling across the floors.

He walked out and met Att-Lass and Bron-char who had just come out of theirs, also looking puzzled. “Medical pods?” he asked and they nodded. “Open the next one.”

They forced open the fourth cargo hold, entering together this time. Yon-rogg led them along the catwalk, stopping at the top section. There were bodies in these pods. Kree bodies. Other pods had burst open. Violently. 

Att-lass anxiously tapped his shoulder. He nodded and gestured to retreat. They hastily backed out. A they came out in the hallway, a rumbling beneath their feet made them start. Yon-rogg wasted no time.

“Back to the Aegis. Run.”

He ignited his gauntlets, already knowing what would come. In front of them, the floor panels burst open and droc tentacles shot upwards as the creature crawled through the opening, blocking their way.

Att-lass and Bron-char fired. The short range blasters they had brought had good effect on the droc, but it was only replaced by another, then another.

“Ta-rinn, time to go,” Yon-rogg called.

“ _ Commander...” _

“That’s an order. Report to On-sar, tell her...” he grunted as he dodged a tentacle, “tell her we found the source.”

A violent shake knocked him off his feet, landing him against the wall. The temporary loss of control made the gravity field waver. He heard the tentacle approach almost before he saw it. But before it struck, a body landed heavy against him. Bron-char’s face was level to his, frozen in shock, before being pulled backwards into the black moving mass.

There was a rumbling sound approaching. The hallway filled with fire, disintegrating everything in its path. Not fire, he realized. Photon blasts.

“Carol,” he gasped. She stopped in front of him, floating a few inches above the floor.

Flames swirled around her, her eyes so bright he had to avert his gaze. She cocked her head in direction of the hangar, then turned her attention to the drocs further down the corridor, throwing blast after blast, securing their escape.

He scrambled to his feet, grabbing Att-lass who was on his knees. With Carol covering their backs, they made it back to the Aegis. Yon-rogg looked over his shoulder and saw Carol rush past them to her little ship which had been skidded to a halt.

The rumbling around them intensified. Ta-rinn came to meet them on the ramp. “Hurry!” she yelled and rushed to the cockpit to get them moving as fast as possible.

“I thought I ordered you to leave!” Yon-rogg berated, but there was no real anger behind the words. Only relief. Ta-rinn set the engines to full power forward, only responding to his criticism with a cocked eyebrow.

They lunged forward so forcefully everyone had to hold on to something or fall backwards. Around and behind them, the freighter broke into pieces from the building pressure, ending with an explosion of the remaining fuel in its engines. The Aegis rocked violently but its energy shield protected them from the blast.

Yon-rogg rushed to the pilot chair and took the control wheel from Ta-rinn. With a pounding heart, he turned the Aegis around. Behind them, floating mid-space, was the scorched wreckage of Carol’s shuttle.

He swallowed, staring intently on it as it drifted further and further away from them. When the hatch finally opened he thought he would implode with relief. Carol’s glowing shape appeared, floating a few moments alongside her wrecked ship before flying to the Aegis.

***

Carol had made the decision not long after Yon-rogg left. She sent a message to On-sar that she would have to delay the next evacuation. The choice weighed heavy on her. She wondered how many lives she had sacrificed in the process.

As she entered Cambril system she immediately caught a hail signal, meaning Starforce was in trouble. She pushed the Chevy to its limit.

“Carol to Starforce, do you read?”

“ _ Car-ol! They need help! We’re on board a freighter.” _ Ta-rinn replied with a most un-Kree panicked pitch in her voice.

“I’m on my way,” Carol assured and pushed the speed lever even though it was already at its maximum, approaching the black freighter at dangerous velocity.

Once she entered the hangar, she turned the Chevy and engaged its brake thrusters, skidding to a halt, breaking the landing gear in the process. She lunged out, though the hangar door, throwing photon blasts at the black mass of drocs blocking her way. A glimmer of blue and the sound of blaster bolts told her all was not lost. She was a firestorm, engulfing layer after layer of black tentacles, burning them to cinders.

She saw them before they her, their backs against the wall, desperately firing and dodging. When she had burned away everything in their way, Yon-rogg and Att-lass were looking at her with shock and disbelief. She nodded towards the hangar, urging them to get a move on, then swirled around, preparing to cover their escape. Splayed on the floor further down the corridor was a lifeless body. Bron-char. Tentacles approached, circling the body and dragging it towards the black moving mass.

The freighter rumbled and creaked around them, like it would come apart any moment. They had to hurry.

The Chevy was in bad shape after the unkind landing. While the Aegis started smoothly, Carol shoved her ship to the hangar’s edge, pushing it into space rather than hoping for it to lift in time. It was, as many of her more desperate decisions often were, a bad plan. She had just about entered the craft when an explosion tore through the freighter behind her, sending her little vessel spinning, fire burning through it’s hull like an origami figure. Carol curled up, shielding herself in a glowing sphere of photon energy.

When the heat dispersed, she looked around at the remains of her worldly possessions. Anything burnable was ash and the rest was made into crumpled, deformed versions of its previous state. With a sigh, she picked at the crusted remains of her leather jacket. There was nothing to do. She abandoned the Chevy to the emptiness of space, and flew to the Aegis.

As soon as she was inside, and before she had time to stop him, Yon-rogg caught her in an embrace. Strong arms enfolding her like he wanted to crush her into himself. “You shouldn’t have come for us. But I’m glad you did.”

She didn’t answer. It would take more of her integrity than she was willing to give up to confess that she had had no choice. That she felt like losing him would make her heart stop as surely as a knife through it. That as long as he breathed there was a flickering hope inside her.

Tucking his chin into her neck, he murmured, “I told you that shuttle was garbage.” The words accompanied with a low, relieved laugh. 

She pushed herself away from him, annoyed. “That shuttle contained everything I owned, Yon-rogg.”

He looked confused and she reminded herself that Kree didn’t value sentimentality the way humans did. She softened a bit. “On-sar is waiting for me.” She didn’t have to mention the rest, that her rushing to their rescue had cost so many people their lives. He already knew.

“I’ve already ordered Ta-rinn and Att-lass to set a course.”

There was a moment of silence when neither knew where to start, where to begin picking apart what had happened. The thought of Bron-char’s lifeless body being dragged away was what finally made her break.

She bit her lip, grimacing against the need to cry. “Bron-char,” she whispered.

Yon-rogg nodded, eyes glazed with something that could be tears, if not for the fact that he never cried. “Can I hold you again?” He sounded desperate, like a man dying of thirst and she was holding the water.

A tear fell across her cheek and she nodded, stepping back into his embrace. His chest heaved as he sighed with relief. She cried silently against his shoulder. Now and then, she felt him tense and bore his nose into her hair, his hold on her tightening whenever he struggled to remain composed.

She wondered who of them felt the most guilt. Yon-rogg for making the call to investigate the freighter, or her for withholding information that could have changed the outcome. In this, at least, they could find common ground.

“Why  _ did _ you come for us?” he eventually asked. His voice was soft but there was a harshness beneath, an undertone of suspicion. She wondered what he knew.

A crashing sound from the assembly area startled them. When they came into the room, they saw Att-lass and Ta-rinn on the floor, struggling over a knife.

Yon-rogg and Carol separated them, him holding Ta-rinn and she Att-lass.

“Commander,” Ta-rinn said, her voice trembling with emotion. “He was going to kill himself. I stopped him.”

Yon-rogg released Ta-rinn and looked questioningly at Att-lass. Att-lass lowered his gaze down his body, pointing at a small, jagged opening in the fabric of his thigh. Carol drew in a breath, releasing him, covering her mouth with her hand.

A hoarse laugh coming from her side made her jump. Curled up and mostly hidden in shade, was a Skrull, tethered against the wall. “Well well, Captain Marvel, isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” the Skrull drawled, making an attempt to straighten against the bonds.

Carol’s mouth fell open and she looked to Yon-rogg for an explanation.

“We found him on the bridge,” he explained curtly. “He will be handed over to On-sar for interrogation.”

Carol mind reeled. Not because they had found out Skrulls were responsible, but because Yon-rogg hadn’t cared to inform her. He had assumed she knew all along. Her innards clenched.

Att-lass, now free of her grip, stepped forward. “I don’t want to put anyone at risk, Commander,” he implored, “let me finish it.”

Yon-rogg didn’t notice Carol’s bewilderment, his focus on Att-lass. “I will kill you myself if there is a need for it. Understood?” Reluctantly, Att-lass nodded. Yon-rogg looked thoughtful for a moment. “I want to try something.” He disappeared aftward without further explanation.

Carol’s eyes darted between the direction Yon-rogg had gone, to the Skrull, to Ta-rinn and Att-lass, now standing close. Ta-rinn affectionately took Att-lass’s face between her hands. “It’s alright. I think I know what he’s planning,” she said softly. 

Feeling awkwardly like a spectator of something intimate and secret, Carol backed away and followed Yon-rogg to where he had gone. She found him in the med-station where he had opened the medical pod and was sitting bent over it, adjusting its settings. 

So many questions crowded her mind, questions she couldn’t ask him fearing she might give away what she knew. Her one clear thought was that she had to find a way of contacting Talos and Soren. But with her ship and transmitter gone she had no way of doing that without tipping off Starforce.

“What are you doing?” she asked instead.

“We’re putting Att-lass in cryo.”

“Will that help him?”

“Not immediately,” Yon-rogg said severely and rose. “But I suspect it will stall the infection. Perhaps even stop it. They spread the virus by leaving infected bodies. On the freighter, they were contained in pods.” He opened the interface on his bracer and pushed some commands into it. “We’re a little short on crew. Could you take the Aegis’s controls? I’ve granted you permissions.”

Surprised, she agreed. Permissions meant she could use the transmitter. If she could have privacy, which was harder to achieve.

She passed Ta-rinn and Att-lass. In the assembly area, she and the Skrull locked gazes for a moment. There was something menacing about him despite his helplessness, his dark eyes glittering with interest. She pointedly averted her eyes and stepped up to the cockpit.

The feel of the chair and the view of the dashboard sent a thrill of recognition through her. Her heart swelled. She was aware that she wasn’t in the Helion but her body’s memory didn’t care. They were on autopilot but she grabbed the control wheel regardless, caressing it like a returning lover. 

Her musings were interrupted by the shuffling of the Skrull behind her. “I didn’t believe it,” he said, his voice a low growl, “but you really are one of them.”

Carol stiffened. He was desperate, she told herself. He was trying to provoke her. “You’re wrong,” she said with clarity. “I’m here to help and protect a civilian population under attack.”

He scoffed, snarling, “Could have helped us. You didn’t.”

She turned the chair so she could see him, his profile a sharp relief against the backlight. “What's your name?”

“Jagun,” he muttered. She looked more carefully at him. She wasn’t very good at guessing the age of a Skrull but she thought he looked younger than Talos, the furrows on his face less prominent, his skin the lush tone of spring leaves. He grunted, “Now will you do me the favor of ending my life?”

“That’s not how I operate I’m afraid.”

Jagun laughed gravelly. “I noticed. Noble warrior hero, am I right?”

That made Carol see red. She sprung from the seat and closed the distance between them in one leap. She lifted him by his throat and pushed him against the wall, flames licking her arms and hands. “You have no idea who I am or what my motives are,” she hissed.

“Don’t I?” he croaked, choking in her grip. “You’re the most powerful weapon in the galaxy and you’ve made it quite clear whose side you’re on.”

She let go of him and he collapsed into a pile, wheezing and coughing.

“Everything that’s happening now is your doing, can’t you see that?” he said between breaths trying to right himself into sitting position, the bonds impairing his movements.

She was painfully aware that his words were creeping under her skin. “What do you mean?”

“We all thought you would right the scales. Some called you chosen. Some called you an angel. A goddess who had emerged to our aid.” He spat the words out. “But nothing happened. You were… complicit. Like the rest of the Galaxy, scared shitless of choosing a side.”

Carol’s face scrunched up with denial, violently shaking her head against his words.

Seeing the effect it had on her, Jagun leaned back, sneering.

Their exchange was interrupted by Yon-rogg appearing. Carol hurriedly returned to the pilot chair. Yon-rogg stalked after her, leaning on the backrest, looking at her from above.

“What did he say to you?” It wasn’t an order but she heard the urgency in his voice.

Carol let out a tired breath, looking emptily ahead into space. Doubt and sorrow twisted and turned in her gut, rising in her throat like sour bile.

“Carol…”

“How’s Att-lass? Did it work?” she cut him off with a tone that left no room for negotiation.

Yon-rogg sighed and moved around the chair, leaning against the dashboard, arms crossed. “Ta-rinn is watching over him. We’ll have to wait.”

“On-sar won’t like it.”

“We’ll see,” he said softly. 

“I guess the rule about not mentioning Skrulls is a bit outdated now,” she offered.

“I concur.”

“You need to know they are different. Some hate the Kree indiscriminately for what you’ve done to them. To their planet. Some… some are more open-minded.”

He smiled somberly. “I believe that’s what  _ you _ believe.”

She turned to look at him. Unwavering golden eyes met hers. She felt a dark flutter low in her stomach. “Have you never had reason to doubt the Supremor?” 

His face tensed with emotion for a moment. It was so brief she would have missed it if not for the years of practice at reading him.

“My god,” she whispered breathlessly. “You have.”

Yon-rogg quickly recomposed, speaking with the same assertiveness as when teaching a children's class. "The Supreme Intelligence is never wrong. All Kree must strive to remain true to that faith."

“Oh, spare me!”

He leaned into her space, looking intently at her. She had a thousand retorts ready at the tip of her tongue but now it glued itself to the roof of her mouth.

“I think you might have gotten the wrong idea about me,” he said softly but irrefutably. “My loyalty and faith are not up for negotiation. I will die true to both.”

This time, he meant every word. Not a muscle in his face moved to tell otherwise.

“And where does that leave us?” she asked fatefully.

He tilted his head. “On different sides, or soon to be.” He tucked an unruly lock of her hair behind her ear.

She didn’t know what she wanted most. To kiss him or beat sense into his stubborn ego.

“I can manage just fine here if you have something else to do,” she snarled. "Other than bothering me."

He smiled wistfully and shook his head at her, leaning away from the dash, using the momentum to start walking down the steps. Leaving her so heavy with loss and sorrow she wished there was a way to forget everything, and just be Vers again.


	13. Prayers

Yon-rogg was shaken. Carol’s question had left him reeling. He told himself it was because he hadn’t expected it. He would have enjoyed a rhetoric sparring match with her. He would remind her of the history of the Kree, of how the Skrulls sided with the Cotati thousands of years ago. That his people were fighting a war for survival still. She knew of course, but those deceiving fiends had made her forget.

Now Carol walked down the Aegis’s ramp, turning only once to send him the most hapless look. The same she had given her shuttle before abandoning it, he imagined.

Carol would leave with one of On-sar’s sniper teams to salvage what was left to save on the next planet in line. Yon-rogg didn’t envy her. It had been her call to stall the evacuation and now she would witness the consequences first hand. 

He willed his gaze away from her figure. Right now he had other concerns.

Admiral On-sar met him in the hangar. With her was a group of soldiers and a medic team. Yon-rogg had prepared the Admiral for the danger they brought: Att-lass, suspended in cryo, a potential time bomb.

On-sar wasted no time on formalities. “Tell your medic to follow Att-lass to medbay. A quarantine has been prepared.” She turned to the soldiers. “The Skrull goes to the brig.”

The commanding officer nodded and led his team to the Aegis. A few moments later the Skrull was led past them, the creature’s posture telling all about its fears for what would come. Yon-rogg wasn’t moved in the least. Torture was not his domain but he regarded it as a necessity. The Skrull had chosen its fate. He had offered a quick death; his conscience was clear.

On-sar carefully measured Yon-rogg with her gaze. “Commander. We will talk. One on one.”

It was nothing less than he expected. He would have had to explain himself sooner or later and he would rather do so before On-sar than the Supremor. Yon-rogg ordered Ta-rinn to go with the medic team, then followed On-sar through the Nemesis. As they walked, her comm fed her continuous information from the planet surface. Occasionally, she barked an order, but mostly things worked by routine. 

He was surprised to find that she led him to her quarters. A simple but comfortable suite, befitting her rank but not superfluous. The viewport faced away from the planet and its sun, showing only empty space.

On-sar offered him a seat but he declined, preferring to stand at ease. She positioned herself in front of the viewport, looking out. Yon-rogg respected the Admiral; she was honorable and wise. But he was sometimes uncertain if the esteem was mutual. Like most Kree, she was a person of scarce declarations. 

“I’m sorry to hear you lost a man,” she opened, looking at him through the reflection. He nodded at the acknowledgment. He had already informed her of the details, via comm.

On-sar continued austerely, “I have communed with the Supreme Intelligence. I know your operation was neither ordered nor sanctioned by the Supremor.”

Yon-rogg tried to guess the direction this was going. In the reflection he could see her eyes narrowing, as if she was trying to figure him out. She hadn’t condemned his actions and quite frankly she didn’t have authority to do so; Starforce acted immediately under the Supreme Intelligence. But he had no doubt she would care little for his rank if she thought him a threat. Her humble stature was not a good measure of her character.

She turned to him, hands clasped casually behind her back but her voice had the sharpness of cambrilian steel. “Speak freely Commander.”

He wet his lips, looking away for a moment while considering what to say. She couldn’t order him to disclose what he knew. Still, she had made her meaning clear to him. He would have to offer her something to explain his apparent providence. 

“I took the liberty of planting a listening device on Danvers’s shuttle. Ten standard hours ago I received a recording of a call between her and General Talos and another Skrull called Soren.”

On-sar drew in a slow breath. This was news to her. He wondered fleetingly how it could be that she didn’t know already.

He continued, wary of keeping his own shortcomings out of the retelling. “They were heading to a planet named Pallakor. Allegedly it had been removed from Kree records. They claimed it was the source of the droc spread. This information was what led me to the conclusion that the spread was intentional, systematic, likely one single ship. The rest was math.”

Onsar frowned. “You’re not telling me everything.”

There was no point in denying it. He raised his chin an increment. “I don’t have to.”

“What is to be done about Danvers then?” she asked, testing him.

Yon-rogg wondered what the Supremor had told On-sar of him and Carol. He balked at the thought of his most private moments being open to someone else, then silently admonished himself for such faithlessness.

The answer to her question was embedded in his right bracer. He thought he could feel the implant stirring menacingly there whenever he thought of his final mission.

“The Supreme Intelligence have given me orders,” he replied tightly and hoped he hadn't been flinching.

This answer seemed to satisfy On-sar. The set of her shoulders relaxed a little. “Very well. The Skrull will lead us to Pallakor, if such a place exists. We will root out these terrorists and eliminate all traces of their research. This can never be allowed to happen again.”

He nodded in agreement. “It might be best that Ta-rinn remains on the Nemesis.” On-sar raised a questioning brow. He clarified, “She knows nothing of the Supremor’s plan for Danvers. I will have better opportunities completing their orders alone. Danvers will want to return to her homeworld.”

The faintest smirk crossed On-sar's face. Yon-rogg had never felt so dirty. He knew she would note the tension on his face and wondered, again, what she knew.

The Admiral became serious again. “Can we trust Att-lass in Ta-rinn’s care, then?”

“Absolutely.”

“Even if what you hope for doesn’t work?”

He bit his lip, not bothering to hide his uncertainty. “I’m not sure.”

On-sar nodded thoughtfully. “Go see her before joining Danvers. Tell her what I expect from her. She will be directly under my command.”

They saluted. He left her quarters and went to the Nemesis's medbay. The quarantine section was at the back, shielded from the rest by double walls and a decontamination chamber. Att-lass was still in the Aegis’s medpod. Ta-rinn sauntered restlessly about the room.

“Commander,” she saluted him, instantly alert and formal. “So far, Att-lass is stable. We have tested his blood. The cryo stalls the disease's course, just as you thought.”

Yon-rogg looked inside the pod. Under the domed glass, Att-lass was seemingly asleep, his armor removed, a dozen instruments attached to his torso, head, arms and legs. The wound on his thigh was black from coagulated blood.

“You will stay on board the Nemesis, under On-sar’s direct command,“ he informed her. Ta-rinn nodded, expression tense. “Att-lass is your responsibility now. In all ways.” Yon-rogg looked meaningfully at her sidearm.

She stuttered. “Att-lass has a higher rank than me, I can’t...”

“Tarinn.” He cut her off with a raised brow, dropping the formality. “We both know that’s not what this is about.” His frankness held no condemnation but the words struck regardless. She looked away, a deep blue blush rising to her face.

There were no strict rules against fraternization but operatives were expected to stay focused on duty regardless of personal feelings. Easier said than done. Yon-rogg knew that all too well.

“I was surprised they even let him on board,” Ta-rinn said softly, sounding almost timid as she looked at the sleeping warrior. 

Though blue-skinned, she wasn’t beautiful in the exquisite way Minn-erva had been, but Yon-rogg could understand her appeal. There was a sorts of untamed conviction to her. She had good instincts. And she had saved their lives, he reminded himself.

“All things considered, it’s only fair that I tell you,” he said and she froze, eyes darting to him, begging him not to stall. “That On-sar is Att-lass’s mother.”

The words crashed down on Ta-rinn with a weight that made her stagger. “But… he has...”

“His father’s name,” Yon-rogg clarified. It was not common, but could be the case when children were born out of wedlock.

The remainder of Ta-rinn’s resolve broke apart into a look of pure dread, realizing she would face the Admiral’s personal judgment either as the one who out of necessity pulled the trigger on her son, or as a prospective family member. Yon-rogg hoped for the latter. While it seemed fate would have him cut his own heart out, he wanted Ta-rinn spared. 

“I will join Carol during the remainder of the evacuations. Serve well and with honor, acting lieutenant,” he declared, thereby granting her Att-lass’s rank as second in command. “For the good of all Kree.”

She saluted him with only a slight tremble in her voice, “For the good of all Kree, Commander.”

***

Carol’s head was a mess. Despite the grimness of the task, she was glad she had a concrete problem to solve, as opposed to the elusive jigsaw of galactic peace making. She was sick to the bone of everything and everyone in this meaningless war of bullshit and lies. If only there was a way to pit Veranke and the Supreme Intelligence against one another and let them fight it out without sacrificing millions of civilians and subordinates in the process.

And she was worried for Talos and Soren. Jagun’s expression as she abandoned him on the Aegis was etched on her cornea, a look of betrayal and withering contempt. He had, she realized then, to the last minute hoped that she would take pity on him and spare him from the Kree’s brutality. It would have been quick and easy, perhaps even strategic, for her to end his life. Yet she had balked at the thought of executing a helpless prisoner. Seeing the bodies of slaughtered Kree children on the planet surface took away the guilt. She would forget his face, but she anguished horribly at the thought of Talos and Soren sharing his fate.

Above her, Onsar’s sniper teams rained death on the drocs at a rate that rivaled her own. They had learned, eventually, where to aim to cause effective damage. And they were better equipped now, using expensive projectile ammunition instead of common energy bolts. In time, they might be able to handle the drocs without her.

Previously there had been a strict rule to not allow any injured onboard. Knowing there was a way to stall the infection until they had something like a cure, the injured were thankfully allowed to board as well. A small consolidation.

The last two transports lifted and Carol immediately turned her back on the doomed world. The ominous shapes of the Accuser warships were already visible in the sky.

Her comm scrambled to life. Yon-rogg.  _ “Ready to go Carol?” _

She swirled around and spotted the Aegis plunging through the sky towards her. She muttered an affirmative response. As if the emotional dissonance in her brain couldn’t get any worse. The anonymous faces of On-sar’s sniper teams were a relief compared to Starforce.

He turned the ship and lowered the ramp. She landed nimbly, momentarily lighting up the interior with her glow before she let her powers rest.

She buckled up in the co-pilot seat and they accelerated upwards. The tremble from turbulence and the roar of the engines soon calmed to the low hum of vacuum drift. Through the shield she could see the fleet beginning to move to their next destination, not wasting a minute.

“I could have gone with one of On-sar’s teams,” she remarked.

“The Aegis is faster."

She didn’t mention that it made no difference in the end, that she had to wait for the fleet to regroup and send fresh teams and transports regardless.

Four more worlds. Two star systems. Half a day. Then her commitment to the Kree was at an end. What came after that she preferred not to think about _. _

Yon-rogg was focused on flying. More so than necessary, she reckoned.

If things were different between them, this could be romantic. Like something from a silly novel where the main characters are stranded together for a number of suspiciously coincidental reasons. As it were, she was neither in the mood for nor naturally predisposed towards such fantasies. 

Yon-rogg had made it very clear that he would not be swayed. That be would be her enemy rather than considering the sliver of doubt she  _ knew _ he harbored. If only her powers included mind reading.

She made the decision because she realized she had no choice. “I'm going to use the transmitter."

He gave her a sideward glance, still with the control wheel in a tight grip. “Go ahead.”

There was no point hiding in the dorms like a teenager calling a secret date. Yon-rogg could listen to her call anyways. She would just have to deal with whatever freak reaction he ended up having.

Carol opened the interface on her wrist and chose Soren’s signal code. There was no response. Tensing with worry, she attempted to reach Talos, but got the same result. Previously abstract fears now became very real.

“No luck?” Yon-rogg regarded her, noticing her concern.

Carol paid him no attention, her mind frantically lining up every reason interstellar comms could malfunction. They could be close to a gravity well. Or an EMP could have knocked out their tech. Perhaps they had been forced to shut down all outgoing signals for risk discovery.

Or they could be dead. Trying to fix a problem for the Kree. Who hated them.

"I'll try again later," she mumbled absently. She rose suddenly and walked aftward, unsure where she was going. She just wanted to be alone. To be given a moment to recalibrate.

Standing in the port dorm, she wondered what had happened to Ta-rinn and realized that the sniper must still be on the Nemesis. 

She was alone with Yon-rogg. 

Steps approached behind her. He had finally engaged the autopilot then.

She scrunched her eyes shut as if that would make her predicament less complicated.

"Ta-rinn stayed with Att-lass?" she asked.

"Yes. As an extra precaution."

She rolled her eyes as she turned around. Did he really think her so naive? "Your orders are to keep an eye on me, right?"

He looked wary and seemed to consult his options for a moment, then asked, "What do you know of the Skrulls involvement?"

"Nothing," she lied bluntly, hoping it might provoke a reveal from him. He clearly knew more than he let on. "Except that Talos is not responsible," she added heatedly. 

His eyes flashed with annoyance. "They really have you fooled, haven't they?" 

She hated the contemptuous way he looked at her. As if she was tainted, defiled in his eyes. She laughed dryly at the irony of it, "And those are the words from the very man who lied to my face and manipulated me for six years. Who took my memories and used me as a weapon."

He took a distinct step towards her. As if testing her reaction. She stood firm, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"It wasn't my call." He wasn't exactly regretful, it was just a statement. She eyed him suspiciously. He knew her too well. Knew what buttons to push. Yet the words rang true to her. He seemed to sense the crack in her determination because he continued with renewed conviction, "I didn't think it necessary to take your memories. I knew you would side with us, as yourself, if you learned the truth about the Skrulls. Now you have." He displayed his open palms as if symbolically laying the truth before her.

"Then why the lies?" she spat. The hurt crept up on her. She hated the feeling.

"I wish there had been another way."

She laughed again, shaking her head as if in disbelief. It was the only way to dispel his influence on her. She broke eye contact and walked to the back wall, leaning against it with her legs and arms crossed. "Port dorm is mine. Get out." 

He moved to stand in front of her, trying to get her to look at him. She pointedly refused, waiting for him to give up rather than having to blast him again.

She heard him draw a breath, in through his mouth, out through his nose. "Come with me to Hala when this is over."

"Excuse me? Did you hit your head on the freighter?" 

She had to look at him now, to figure out what game he thought he was playing. She was utterly unprepared for the open desire that met her. His chest heaved from another controlled breath. His eyes bored into hers, closer to an amber glow than gold now.

He wasn't asking her as the Commander.  _ He was asking as... _

"Come with  _ me _ ," he repeated ardently and her knees turned to jelly. 

_ … a man _ .

She fumbled after her anger, holding up it like a shield. "So the Supremor can take my memories and I can be your pet again? Sorry to disappoint."

"You weren't my  _ pet, _ " he growled, his indignation music to her ears.

"Oh? Wasn't I?" She raised her brow and spoke sarcastically, "I guess there must have been a misunderstanding then because what I remember is being brainwashed, repeatedly lied to and made to think I was your…" She couldn’t find the right word. Favourite? Chosen? Comrade?

"Friend?" he suggested. "You were.” He closed in on her as he spoke. “You  _ are _ ." 

"You Kree sure have a strange idea of friendship." She leaned back from him until her head was against the wall panel. "Now get out of my room or do I have to make you?"

He planted his hands on either side of her head, gaze dark and challenging. "Make me."

Her voice was stuck in her throat as desire and anger fought for the upper hand. He leaned even closer. Her breath hitched. She half hoped, half feared he would kiss her.

"Carol," he murmured, his breath hot against her cheek. “I understand your reservations about me. And the Supreme Intelligence. But you know the truth now. The prisoner, the Skrull, told you something, didn’t he? Something that proved I was right about them.”

“They are fighting for survival,” she bit back. “As wrong as it was, they are desperate. You’re killing them off.”

“That’s a lie. They are invading us. We need you. Come with me.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed. “That’s rich. Let’s parade me about on Hala. ‘ _ Behold the mighty Vers who blew up an Accuser warship and sent Ronan on the run _ .”

“Captain Danvers who  _ saved the lives of millions’ _ ,” he corrected her, turning his head so their noses brushed. He laughed quietly, and added, “But I don’t mind that part with Ronan, to be honest with you.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle with him. “Did you just make a joke?”

“I must be under bad influence,” he smiled and kissed her. 

He was gentle this time, so she softened too. It felt too good. Her head spun in circles within circles, each turn pulling her deeper. It had to stop. She turned her face away. “I can’t.”

“Why?” He pressed himself harder against her, one of his hands coming up to persuade her to turn back to him. She resisted though it took all she had.

“I won't choose a side.”

He gave up his attempts, looking at her with narrowing eyes. “Your Skrull ‘friends’?” he snorted. The contempt was back. “They are using you. The Supreme Intelligence...”

“I am  _ sick  _ of the Supreme goddamn Intelligence,” she growled, her anger spiking at the mention. She placed her hands on his temples, imploring him, “Use your own mind for once, Yon-rogg. Because the only person here being used, is  _ you _ .”

No retort came.

He looked tired, as exhausted by the argument as she was. They had reached the inevitable dead end, their conflicting worldviews so disparate neither could understand what the other was about.

Gently, he took her wrists and lowered her hands from his head, leaning back from her in the same motion. The air cooled too quickly between them.

He looked at his time-keeper. “I better get back to the controls. Less than one hour to the next planet.”

Four more planets. That was it.

***

Talos powered up the drop ship. The display shone dimly and a red, blinking light slowly faded until all went dark. The energy cells were dead. Or close to. Traveling from  _ Soren _ to the jump point must have nearly depleted them. 

He cursed. Fueling was quick. Charging empty energy cells, like the ones used in these small pods, was not. Even Vorik’s expertise couldn’t offer any satisfying solution to the problem. They would have to wait. The very last thing they needed.

After setting up the charging cable, he walked back to the lab where Soren, with Mav’s help, tried to hack into what was left of Kree data network.

He found her lying halfway into an opening in the wall, cables and tools spread out around her. He wasn’t sure she’d noticed him until she said, “Can you pass me the optic cable? With the red contact?”

He stepped forward, one foot between her thighs, and sat on his hunches, trying to see what she was doing in there. She set the flashlight between her teeth to free up both her hands. An impatient sound reminded him of her request. He passed the cable.

After some huffing and grunting, she eventually came crawling out of her hole.

“There,” she said with satisfaction, brushing dust from herself. “Now I just have to wait.”

“For what?” 

With Soren out of the hole, Talos craned his neck inside to see what she had been doing. Inside were bundles of aged cables. A small box was fastened to one of them, intersecting the older tech with newer, faintly glowing cables.

“A download. It’s makeshift but Mav is positive it’ll work.”

Talos pulled his head out again, momentarily stopping in motion. “How long will it take?”

“I… I don’t know,” she confessed, her voice meandering. “Neither does Mav. Like I said, it’s a hack. I used a memory block and modified a...” Talos rose and held up a hand to stall her exposition. She looked seriously at him. “The ship is ready then?”

He sighed and shook his head. “It needs charging.”

“Should have guessed.”

“Indeed. I hope Tank makes good on her word.”

Soren stepped close, circling him with her arms. “I know she will.”

Talos absently stroking her arm with the back of his hand. “When you come back for me-”

She cut him off. “I’m not the one going.”

His movement ceased. He didn’t understand. “Soren...”

She continued relentlessly, “Go to the council. Witness against Veranke. Make sure our daughter is safe. And call Carol.”

He growled, fingers tightening on her arm. “And then..?”

She shrugged and spoke casually as if she asked him to fetch her from a ferry landing. “You come back for me. Or send someone else.”

Afraid he’d accidentally hurt her if he held on, he let go, resorting to pacing back and forth, opening and closing his fists. She held his gaze calmly but he had felt just how fast her heart beat when they were close a moment ago.

“What are you supposed to be doing here exactly?” she inquired with a quirked eyebrow. “It’s the most sensible option. You’re a General. Your word weighs heavier than mine. I’m a scientist and I came to this place for a reason.”

It was a skilled display of bravado, he had to give her that. But he knew she was afraid. This was not the first time they had been in this situation. Only now, the stakes were even higher. He stopped in front of her, feeling his facial muscles twitch when his fear as a last resort was replaced by anger.

“We’re not doing this again,” he seethed.

“It’s not the same,” she stated with clarity. “I  _ need _ to be here. You  _ need _ to be there. It’s how it has to be.”

She was right. But that fact only contributed to propel his anger even higher. He turned away.

She stepped to him, leaning her forehead against his neck, her hands coming up to circle his waist, moving in slow, gentle, soothing strokes. Her voice stung like spirits on a wound, pure and cleansing against his rearing panic. “Don’t do this. Be with me.”

He would. Of course he would.

With a shudder, he released Vorik’s form. He had no doubt the bastard’s memories might yet come in handy but he wanted nothing between them now. Neither did she, he sensed.

They had previously found a hallway with holding cells. Likely where the unfortunate test subjects had been detained. At the end of the hallway was what probably passed for a kitchen. There were even some freeze-dried ration bags left in a crate. The tap held water and they were able to prepare food using a heater.

Neither spoke of their impending separation, or the fate of  _ Soren _ . After the shared meal, they made a bed from mattresses found in the cells. No mention was made of the fate of their inhabitants. It was not the first or even likely the last time they bunked in a place reeking of death and terror. Their people’s predicament had blunted them to otherwise jarring contradictions between love and death, loss and life. It was all the same, the difference as fickle and changing as a solar wind.

While making love in dim blue emergency light, Talos couldn’t help thinking of their last night together before the attack that split up their family. That time, he hadn’t known what awaited. They had slept together, as they always did during that period of constant flight and hiding, with Indes tucked between their bodies to keep her warm as the life support was kept on minimum.

As much as ignorance could be a blessing, he was thankful that was not the case this time. Soren appeared to be of the same opinion, her eyes dark and needy where she lay beneath him, her hands and legs clinging to him as if he were a buoy in a deep blue swirling ocean.

Afterwards, they remained as they were, intertwined as if they tried to become one. Soren gently stroked his shoulders. He kept saying her name. First between labored breaths, then as a whisper, over and over again until she silenced him with a kiss. She twisted her body and he rolled to his side so her back was against his chest, his arms wound around her slender shape.

“I don’t want to talk,” she said with a small, tight voice.

Talos understood perfectly. He kissed the crook of her neck. “I love you,” he murmured. She pressed herself tight against him.

They snoozed, kissed and slept on and off, until his time-keeper alerted him that it was time to check on the energy cells. 

Once it stood clear that the pod was ready to leave, there was no time to waste. The further he lingered the bigger the risk that a hostile fraction – Veranke or the Kree – would get to Pallakor before he could return.

He kissed her one last time, then stepped into the pod and set the coordinates. It warned him, as expected, that the coordinates belonged to no known destination. Soren donned the breathing mask and walked to a control board on the wall, opening the hangar doors for him. He glanced at her one last time. She made an ‘ok’ sign accompanied by a smile that threatened to break his resolve.

Talos’s every instinct told him to grab Soren – stun her if he had to – and put her into the pod instead of himself. Regardless of how much or little sense it made to the big picture. His respect for her was the only thing preventing him from doing so.

He had always known she was the bravest.

The pod vibrated to life and accelerated so forcefully the air left his lungs as he was plastered against the seat. When the craft broke atmosphere, he was able to turn around, watching Pallakor become more and more distant.

All he had left now was prayers.


	14. Sacrifice

Carol felt like she was slipping. The Chevy had been a practical necessity as much as it had been a sanctuary to remind her of who she was, filled with memories from her home. Now she was surrounded by the sounds, smells and views belonging to the other her. Vers.

To make things worse, she and Yon-rogg had fallen into a jarringly domestic routine. She would return from ‘work’. He would gruffly remind her to eat and rest. And like a quarreling couple, both sullenly kept to themselves when they didn’t need to discuss anything of practical importance.

_ Come with me. _

Part of her wanted to know exactly what he had meant by that. Perhaps that part was Vers talking. Vers, who would have been beyond herself with joy if Yon-rogg had asked her the same thing. Carol wondered if the irony of the situation was as obvious to Yon-rogg as it was to her. She had  _ adored  _ him for six years. He had had ample opportunities.

Carol had made repeated attempts to reach Talos and Soren. She had tried the Mar-vell too but there was no response. With the Chevy gone, she had lost access to navigation data that could lead her to either Pallakor or  _ Soren.  _ The helplessness ate at her. She was desperate for sleep, but ended up staring emptily into the ceiling. 

They were now headed for Cambril, their last stop. After it, she would have to decide what to do next. She was once again in the port dorm, on a bunk, trying to at least get some rest even if she couldn’t sleep. The only casual wear available to her were Kree garments. Dark trousers and a gray and green, sleeveless shirt that was too big for her.

Yon-rogg called her on the comm. They did that a lot now. It seemed easier.

“ _ Carol. Come to the cockpit.” _

He sounded oddly upbeat. She frowned in annoyance and pulled the blanket higher, considering ignoring him, but curiosity poked at her until she gave in. She rose and shuffled barefoot out of the dorm. In the hallway she saw light coming from the assembly area. Like refractions from a disco globe. She hurried her step, heartbeat quickening.

They were flying through clouds of crystallized water. Space snow, she had described it as to Monica. But adding to the wonder was the backlight of a supernova, reflecting against the icy layered veils, coloring it white-pink-blue and every hue in between.

She unwittingly made a breathy sound of wonder.

Yon-rogg watched her silently for a few moments, then said, “It won’t last forever, so if you want to...”

Her eyes darted to the control wheel.

“We have a decent head start on the fleet,” he added reassuringly, already rising from the pilot chair and moving co-pilot.

Carol felt a flutter through her body. He knew her so infuriatingly well. Without comment, she took the pilot chair. With used movements, she switched off the autopilot and took the controls.

She let a slow breath out between her lips, then banked hard right through a veil, scattering it. She sent the Aegis into a dive, plunging through layer after layer, then traced the edge of one. The angle scattered ice dust across the shield so that the colors in the cockpit exploded in intensity.

Her love for flying remained unchanged. It had been as apparent in Vers, as it had been in her life before then, as it was now. It was a solid core that no amount of social pressure, amnesia or even godlike powers could move.

_ A crack pilot, as I recall. _

She glanced at him. He looked at her with such warmth, the hint of a smile narrowing the corners of his eyes, softening his handsome features. She turned away almost instantly but still she could feel his gaze on her.

***

_ Mine.  _ The feeling was so strong he could choke on it. 

Yon-rogg didn’t believe in the ancient blood rituals that some crazed fanatics still practiced, but he had no other way of explaining the pull he felt. As if he, without fully understanding the implications, had stepped into a pact with her the moment he volunteered his vein.

Vers uncanny feel for flying hadn’t surprised him. He knew she was good, far better than the average Terran probably. But the playfulness, the sheer joy, was something he had never seen in anyone before.

Her happiness was infectious, but only to him it seemed. The others had given her sideward glances, attributing her excitement to immaturity, perhaps a consequence of losing her memory.

Minn-erva, of course, had resented it thoroughly and pointedly reminded him to keep the Terran on a short leash. Like two flerkins in a bag, the two had been ready to erupt over the smallest thing the moment he looked away. Vers because she enjoyed bantering, Minn-erva for fear of being replaced. At times, he had felt more like a peace keeper than a Commander.

At times, he had felt like a love struck moron who could fool everyone except the Supreme Intelligence.

His loyalty had already failed them. Would fear for his own life be enough, then? He had had at least a dozen opportunities to do what they had demanded of him but at each turn he found that he couldn’t.

Darkness fell on them as Carol steered them out of the ice cloud. The magic of the moment was dispelled, forcing him back to present.

“You’ll have to set the autopilot,” she said curtly. “I don’t have the coordinates.”

He moved to the pilot seat and leaned over her where she held the control wheel, setting the desired course and speed. She released her grip and leaned back in the chair, hands on the armrests.

He found himself crouching down at her side, spinning her one quarter of a circle to have her in front of himself. Her chest heaved and she swallowed, but she didn’t move or ask him to go away, nor did she avert her eyes. 

He let their fingertips brush.

***

She should go. She didn’t. The light touch against her fingertips turned to pressure as Yon-rogg slowly laced their fingers while caressing her palms with his thumbs. He had failed to woo her with words and logic but her resistance crumbled before his affection.

Then a shadow of sadness crossed his face. The movement of his thumbs stilled. He made an onset to rise but she clenched her hands. He looked tentatively at her.

Her voice was hardly a whisper, the words spoken through a breath.

“Don’t go.”

He moved so fast that she startled, but relaxed the moment their lips met. If their first kiss had been a fight, the second an attempted persuasion, this was just… a kiss. Something he did because he wanted to. Because  _ they  _ wanted to. 

Desire flared insidiously hot in her, forcing her to admit that she was more than eager to follow this through, and beyond - before any one of them said or did something that made it impossible. She showed her intent by deepening the kiss, pulling him closer until he was forced to brace against the chair. 

“You’re wearing too much,” she complained gruffly as her hands traveled uselessly over his breastplate.

Contrary to what she’d hoped for, he stilled, retreating with a serious expression. “Carol...” he began but silenced as she sighed exasperatedly.

Cooling passion leaked bitterness into her voice. “Can we just… not talk?”

There was hurt in his voice. “Is that what this is to you? Just -” He closed his eyes.

“No,” she said, a little frustrated. “You know it’s not just that.”

He looked at her then, golden eyes lit with challenge. “Then why won’t you choose me?”

“If you chose  _ me  _ in return, I would!” she bit back. “But you won’t do that, so there’s nothing to talk about.”

His expression softened. “You know I can’t make that choice,” he said, quieter, tucking some hair behind her ear.

“Why not?” 

Carol didn’t want another spar. She craved forgetfulness, to find mindless relief in the heat between their bodies.

“Because I’m Kree,” he said and bumped his nose against hers, willing her to look at him. “We don’t bend. We die before we surrender.”

Carol bristled. She was so incomprehensibly tired of his endless semantics, of his senseless loyalty to a cold and soulless entity that forced him to be her enemy.

She pushed him back, rose and tried to walk away but he caught her between his arms. Something about the way he held her, one arm around her shoulders, the other on her waist, made her feel like he was afraid to lose her. Like she was precious. 

“Stay,” he said against her cheek. She felt him swallow. He loosened his grip and when he kissed her again, she let him.

A surprised yelp escaped her when he suddenly hoisted her up against himself with her legs around his waist. But she didn’t protest when he walked them towards ‘his’ dorm. She was so terribly tired of fighting. She would probably regret this tomorrow but right now, she wanted it too much to care. 

When they came to the dorm, she slipped down and helped him out his armor. Leaving it unceremoniously on the floor, he came to her instead, claiming another kiss before his hands slipped under her shirt, and lifted it. Carol’s wits caught up with what they were doing. She stopped him briefly.

“Um… Yon, do you have a..?” she asked awkwardly with a rising flush, tapping the inside of his upper left arm.

“I do,” he smiled at her embarrassment. Her inquiry alluded to the implant that all but a few unmarried Kree men had. Conception was reserved for wedlock. Still, it seemed wise to ask.

“Alright,” she smiled, suddenly feeling shy. “Just so you know, it’s, um… been a while.”

“Just talk to me,” he reassured and planted a kiss just below her ear that for all its simpleness felt scorching. “Tell me what you want.”

“Oh, I excel at that,” she joked, trying to alleviate her sudden anxiety. She didn’t want this to be heavy, to be about  _ feelings _ . If only he wasn’t so damn precise and careful and aware of her reactions. Only too late did she realize what this kind of intimacy with him might actually mean to her. 

Oh shit.  _ I love him. I  _ still _ love him.  _

She could have cried then. Because of how much she wanted him and how much she wished she didn't. Because he was a hopeless case that she didn’t know how to fix. Because one day, she would have to fight him again and it would break her heart.

But then her shirt did come off and his lips found the sensitive skin between her neck and shoulder, and she didn’t care to think any more. He urged her backwards with only a light press against her shoulders. All of her was soft and trusting, heavy and malleable like clay. He pushed her to her back on the bunk and lay himself over her, supported on his elbows so he could look at her.

“So...” he continued with a teasing tone and a glint in his eye, “ _ Captain  _ .” He kissed her briefly and she felt him settle his weight on her, pinning her under him. She swallowed hard, feeling like she’d just stepped into deep water, though her body responded eagerly. He leaned close and hummed in her ear,

“How do you want to be taken?”

***

She was too trusting. It scared him. He wanted this more than anything but a part of him also hoped that she would suddenly tell him to get lost and screw himself. Hell, he probably would at this point, if she did.

But she didn’t. She looked at him, eyes avid, chest heaving, lips quirking into a smile. “How come you’re so sure I want to be  _ taken _ ?” she returned, but there was no power behind her bravado. Her eyes seemed to search his face for something she couldn’t articulate, or didn’t quite know what it was. 

Yon-rogg had a guess though. He met her gaze. “Do you want me to take charge?”

She didn’t reply with words but her sharp intake of breath and the tightening of her hands on his arms was enough confirmation. He felt it too. In a twisted re-reversal of their roles, they were back where they started.

His mind chose that moment to remind him of his  _ orders _ ; the implant, hidden and resting in the bracer of his uniform. He pushed the thought far, far away and focused on Carol instead, taking all of her in, her soft pink skin, her golden hair, the way she smelled, that slightly burnt tinge that was so uniquely hers.

Past and present melted together. For a time, the intimacy and perfect movement of their bodies together offered a glimpse into another reality. One where nothing separated them. But only for a time.

He stilled, supported on his hands, resting his head against her spine, sweat and grief rolling off him as the weight of his predicament caught up with him. He was glad she couldn’t see his face. She rested beneath him, head on his pillow, features soft and smooth. A sated goddess.

He stiffly began to move aside but she threw up a hand to stop him.

“Stay on me for just a little while,” she mumbled. “I like how you feel.”

He complied. The illusion of carefreeness between them was intoxicating. On a whim, he began stroking her neck, loving the smooth feel of her hair between his fingers.

She hummed approvingly and eventually said with a weak, groggy voice, “Congratulations, you found my weak spot. I’ll fall asleep in a jiffy if you keep doing that.”

His movement stilled. She made a dismayed sound and he resumed his attentions, reminded that the terrifying implication of what she had just said was only for him to know. This was the moment he was expected to finally betray her. To place the implant on her neck and coldly look on as she became limp and helpless. 

As soon as she was asleep, he rose and pulled on his basics, a shirt and trousers. He checked the time. One hour to jump point. He clicked open the compartment on his bracer, dropping the implant in his hand, treacherously benign in its current, resting state.

The communion pad’s light no longer seemed comforting but ominous. Yon-rogg tried to swallow his dread. He had practiced the words, in his heart and in his mind, hoping he would be convincing enough. But now that he stood here, repeating his intention to himself once again, it was as if he could already hear the Supremor’s judgment.

_ We expected too much of you. Return to Hala. Your reward awaits you. _

He shuddered. His request to them was simple. Logical, from his point of view. Let her live. Let her see for herself. Let me be the one to win her back for us.

_ Give me the Weapon, or share her fate, Commander. _

He closed his eyes and searched his feelings once again. The image of Carol’s unseeing eyes in the casket appeared almost instantly. He felt dread for his personal sake, naturally, but something else too:

Injustice.

It was  _ unfair. _

She had saved so many. She didn’t deserve this.

He opened his eyes and stared at the implant in his hand, taking it between his thumb and forefinger. Perspiration gathered on his forehead. His heart hammered furiously.

Yon-rogg glanced at the communion pad one last time, then took a firm hold on both ends of the implant, and snapped it in two.

His honor demanded that Carol would live.

Even if it meant that he would die.

***

After Talos had left, Soren immediately got to work. The download was still working but she had a ton of notes to read, to try and find anything useful about the droc virus or the Skrulls that had resurrected it from the dead planet.

Hours passed quickly while she read page after page. Slowly, her mind began to map up a more complete image.

“Viral reproduction,” she mumbled to herself while reading a description of a life form. Pallakor had a forth life form, replicating itself through viral infections with susceptible organisms. Mixing with the recipient dna to form something entirely new.

She brought up the blood test logs.

_ Subject exposed at… …cells decaying at a rate 4.4/10… ...antibodies active… _

She moved forward in time, to the log of the first ‘success’.

… _ successful dna merge likely a result of Kree antibody ‘blindness’ to infection. _

Her heartbeat quickened. If she was not mistaken, this was the key to a cure. Immune system mods were common enough. The catch in the case of the Kree, she suspected, was the need for donors of a different species whose immune system could beat the infection.

She closed the file and walked to the open hatch with the makeshift data theft. The cables had ceased their glow. She made a pleased sound and plucked out the memory unit, winding the cord around her hand as she walked towards the hangar where the comm was.

A rumble tore through the facility. She froze, urgently listening to figure out the source of the sound. Her sensitive ears picked up the sound of voices.

Kree voices.

She looked back towards the lab, then forward to the doors to the hangar, weighing her options. She had Talos’s blaster and the mask with her. And more importantly, the memory block. The decision was instantaneous. She ran for the hangar, hoping the Kree might start with searching the lit section of the lab before continuing onward.

Praying Mav was at the ready, she started the comm with the transmitter key. He answered immediately, concise as always.

“ _ You got it?” _

She struggled to steady her voice. “I have the data but the Kree are here. Can I transmit to you?”

“ _ Not via the transmitter key. I’m sorry.” _

“Okay,” she whispered and took a deep breath as the backup plan she’d already created took a concrete shape. “Can you record a message?”

“ _ I can.” _

Soren glanced anxiously at the door, then took up an emergency aid kit she kept in a pocket. In it was, among other things, a small tube of disinfectant, tweezers and a scalpel that folded out with a click. She cracked open the memory block, freeing the chip inside with a firm tug.

She rolled up her trousers on her left calf. It wasn’t the ideal spot but she needed both her hands for the operation. She drenched the chip and skin on her calf in disinfectant, then clenched her teeth and made a clean cut. Deep enough to pierce the corium, but not to cut into the muscle beneath. Hyperventilating, she held the chip with the tweezers, then reminded herself there was no time for hesitation. She bent her head down and bit into her collar, at the same time burying the chip into herself.

The acute pain quickly dulled into a raw ache. She closed the wound as best she could with elastic tape. With any luck, the Kree would simply regard it as just an injury.

“ _ Soren...”  _ Mav’s voice echoed against the adrenaline pounding in her ears.  _ “It’s ready. Just speak.” _

His voice was solemn. He knew what she asked for. It was not the first time a Skrull made a final call home.

Voices echoed in the hallway leading to the hangar. Soren pulled up the blaster, aimed and hit the door controls. That would buy her a few moments at least. She screwed her eyes shut. A thousand thoughts fought for room in her head, but she had no time for deliberation so she began with the most important.

“When you hear this, I have been captured by the Kree. They are here, now.”

She drew a shaking breath.

“Under my skin, on the inside of my left calf, is a data chip. It has all the data that could be salvaged from the laboratory. I don’t know its contents yet but we can assume there are things there that the Supreme Intelligence will not want leaked.”

There was a hammering on the door.

Soren fought off the reflex to run and hide. They would find her sooner or later. This was what she had to do.

She sobbed uncontrollably, her voice breaking around the finality of her words,

“You must do everything in your power to retrieve my body.”

Then followed a stream of words she could hardly control. Promises she could never fulfill. Wishes she could never live out. Dreams she had had, but never shared.

She didn’t know how long she was given, only that when the blow came, she still clung to the comm.


	15. Talos

The last jump point tore through his body and the drop ship sailed smoothly towards the Skrull fleet’s mothership, the  _ Meiach’Un _ . The massive craft looked abandoned compared to what Talos had expected. It seemed Veranke had already left. The Vote had already happened. If it wasn’t for Soren’s precarious situation he might have cared more. Now, all he could think of was getting into a ship as soon as physically possible and return for her.

He switched on the hail, waiting for a response. It came instantly.

“ _ The suns of Skrullos; identify.” _

He replied with the next line in the epos. “’Rise over the fallen many’; General Talos.”

“ _ General...”  _ the Skrull on the other end hesitated as they realized who they spoke to.  _ “The Council has been attempting to reach you. The Vote...” _

Talos cut them off by relaying the finished plan in his mind, “I have  _ urgent _ need of a fast ship that takes two or more. The Council will be compensated. Make it happen. I can switch ships in the hangar.” He figured he could do all the comm-action onboard a decent ship with a transmitter. Any signal codes that he couldn’t get here he should be able to get via the Mar-vell with Tank’s help.

“ _ I will pass the word, General. But the Vote...” _

“Let the Council know that I will be back soon.” Talos was uninterested in hearing about the blasted Vote. He would have to deal with it eventually, just not right now.

“…  _ didn’t pass. We thought you should know.” _

“What?”

“ _ The Vote didn’t pass.” _

That was unexpected. Or had he misjudged his leaders so completely? Talos should be relieved, but his current predicament lessened the significance. At least he didn’t have to worry about being hauled by his ankles to swear fealty to that warmongering lunatic. The truth of Veranke’s treachery would be disclosed soon enough and Carol would make short work of the rest.

The Meiach’Un was, just like Veranke’s Vindicator, one of few original Skrull built ships left in their fleet. It formed a massive, oval sphere, slightly pointed at the bow and stubbed off towards the aft, shaped like a giant egg. From bow to aft was a wide, round corridor into which he steered his vessel. All the wonder he usually felt at the point of entry to the ancient mothership was deadened by urgency to get moving as soon as possible.

The comm came live again.  _ “Second hangar, General. I’m being informed that a Skrull named Mav has made repeated attempts to reach you.” _

“Mav?” Talos tensed. “Did he say what he wanted?”

“ _ He would only speak to you. He’s an… independent.” _

“I know who he is!” Talos growled into the comm. “Tell him I’ll speak to him.”

“ _ We’ll send an escort to show you the way,” _ the operator said rigidly, and closed the line.

Talos felt his heartbeat in his throat when he entered the hangar. It could just be news, he told himself, but the dread wouldn’t give way.

The promised escort appeared, a young Skrull warrior with a schooled expression. He ran the short distance to her.

“General. Follow me,” she nodded and turned on her heel, taking the lead through the curved hallways.

“Can we hurry?” Talos said urgently. She set a quicker pace. “I see Veranke left.”

“You haven’t heard?” she said between breaths.

“I’ve been without comms for some time.”

“Both Mazahk and Ruza voted against.”

Again, Talos wondered what he had missed in his assumptions. Mazahk was the elder of Veranke’s family line. Losing her vote must have stung.

They entered a room with the comms used by regular operatives and lower command. His guide called out his name and rank and an operator on the far end beckoned for him. He barged into their space with force that made them take a step back.

“Is it on?” he growled.

“ _ Talos?” _ Mav’s voice sounded tentative. Something inside Talos twisted.

“I’m here.”

A deep breath could be heard on the other end.  _ “Soren has been captured.” _

“Captured,” Talos echoed hollowly as if he didn’t understand the meaning of the word.

“ _ I’ve tried to reach you ever since. I knew you were going to the Meiach’Un...”  _ Mav continued talking, listing what he knew and suspected and what happened after he left Pallakor but the words echoed in Talos against a blood red haze of shock and terror.

He just about managed to ask, “By who?”

“ _ I just said… never mind. Soren asked me to record a message. For you.” _

Talos was vaguely aware that everyone was leaving, letting him have the moment in peace.

With a voice that hardly carried, he said, “Play it.”

A low rustle followed by a change in soundscape made it clear the replay was running.

“ _ When you hear this, I have been captured by the Kree. They are here, now.” _

Talos thought he’d break. Real, physical pain spread from his chest to the rest of his body.

Soren drew a breath, sharp enough to be picked up by the mic. Without pause, she then told him what she had done: Determined to finish the mission, she had hidden the chip from the memory unit inside herself with a swift operation. The imagery made Talos wince.

In the background of the recording was the grind and jar of metal doors being forced open.

“Run,” he begged, as if that could change the outcome.

Soren sobbed, a broken, shattered sound of grief and fear.  _ “You must do everything in your power to retrieve my body.” _

“No...” he pleaded, shaking his head over and over, needing to steady himself by holding the edge of the table. “No, no...”

She  _ should _ panic. She  _ should _ hide. But instead...

“ _ I love you. So much. Remember everything we had. Live for both of us. I was often afraid that Indes would never know her father. She’s old enough to remember me now, but she’s hardly had you in her life. She’s lucky to remember both her parents.” _

Because Soren had been orphaned too young to remember hers.

“ _ I… I promised her a land speeder.”  _ Soren gave a raspy chuckle.

Talos objected weakly with a teary grin, “Not old enough.”

“ _ She is old enough. And you must tell her how much I love her. Every day.” _

Tears trickled down his cheeks. He made no attempt to quell them. He was only aware of her voice, oddly peaceful now that her choice was made and her fate sealed. The serene calm of a warrior who faced death with purpose.

“ _ And should the day come when there is peace… true peace. Open our doors, as I would have. You are brave enough for that. I know you are.” _

Her voice was a soft rain of empathy and love against the relentless noise of violence and cruelty ringing in the background as the Kree at last broke through the jammed door.

“ _ I’m so proud of us,”  _ she said in desperate haste before crying out in sudden pain. Then the sound feed filled up with harsh Kree tongue and shuffling boots. A muffled whimper broke through. Before his inner eye, Talos saw her forced to the ground and put in restraints before being dragged off.

The recording fell silent. He closed his eyes.

An indeterminable amount of time passed when he stood frozen, hardly even breathing. Logic screamed at him to get moving. To take action. But how could he move, think or speak when everything in him died as soon as he heard that last whimper? The thought of their child’s uncertain fate was what finally woke some will inside him. He drew a halting breath.

“ _ General.” _ Mav again.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“ _ Tank managed to get everyone off your planet. She commed me just after Soren...” _

“Thank you.”

“ _ We’re on our way to you now. Tank said you would need help.” _

Talos nodded despite the fact that Mav couldn’t see him. The relief of knowing his child was safe had restored a little bit of life in him. “See if you can find anything… from the Kree. Where she is now, who has her.”

“ _ Already on it, General.” _

When the call closed, Talos reminded himself that he was not only the receiver, but also the bearer of bad news. He had to call Carol. She had to know Veranke was about to attack her home world.

The operator hesitantly came when Talos asked for them and brought up Carol’s signal code.

She replied almost instantly. On this line, he saw her on the holo feedback. She was wearing her uniform. It looked like she was walking somewhere. She would see him too, ragged and tired.

“ _ Talos!” _ she called out with overwhelming relief, closing her eyes while thanking her Earth god.  _ “Are you alright? What happened?” _

“Soren has been captured by the Kree.” Foreign words that were like ash in his mouth.

“ _ What?!” _ Carol stopped short. The immediate horror on her face quickly shifted into anger.  _ “Who took her? Where is she?” _ she demanded with a voice that promised murder.

“I don’t know that yet. Veranke had a man, one of our own, on Pallakor. We got outmaneuvered and lost the Hanzar and our comms. You remember Vorik? Our fleet technician?”

“ _ What about him?” _

“It was him. Sent by Veranke, to watch you.” Carol cursed with words Talos could only imagine the full meaning of. He continued to tell her how Soren been left alone on Pallakor, ending with the question he desperately hoped she didn’t have an answer to, “Do you have any idea how the Kree found out?”

Carol’s face fell. She swallowed. Something was wrong.  _ “The Kree found a freighter. It was used to unload infected bodies on the colonies. The team that boarded found a prisoner. A Skrull. He asked me to kill him.” _

“So you did,” Talos assumed.

“ _ No.”  _ Her voice was laden with guilt.  _ “I couldn’t, Talos!” _

Anger spread hot in his gut. So this was the mighty Captain Marvel. A naive, sobbing brat who believed she stood above the laws of war. Talos knew all about what it meant to be playing both sides; of the lethal intricacies involved in managing information leakage; of keeping yourself just above the water surface without endangering the lives of your allies.

He also knew that sacrifices sometimes had to be made. But not as a result of weak gut or delusions of nobility. War left no room for either. It was time he remembered that.

“That was a mistake,” he said curtly, keeping his voice barely level.

Carol tried to scramble from shock to determination.  _ “I will fix this. I promise. Admiral On-sar on the Nemesis had the prisoner. I bet that’s where Soren is too.” _

A dark impulse suggested he might ‘forget’ Veranke’s implied threat towards Earth. Carol would make short work of the Kree, make them return Soren to him and avenge whatever had been done to her. Talos knew he wasn’t thinking straight, everything in him thrashed and clawed and hated. More than anything, he hated himself. For losing vantage and becoming complicit. For believing he was able to stand on the side of the war and be free of it. He contained the vengeful beast inside him, despite its roaring protests.

“Veranke is going to attack Earth.”

Carol looked almost disbelieving, her eyes wandering from place to place, eventually focusing on something or someone else on her end.  _ “What?! Why would she..?”  _ Realization dawned and she gasped, horrified, _ “To get to  _ me _.”  _ Again, her eyes flicked away.

Talos was suddenly made wary. “Who else is there?”

After a too long hesitation, during which her eyes moved between the recorder and the other, she reluctantly said, _ “Yon-rogg. The Chevy was destroyed. I’m on the Aegis now. We just finished the last evac.” _

For a moment, Talos didn’t know what to make of it. It seemed like some sort of strange joke that she sometimes pulled just to make him startle. But she wasn’t joking. He could see that by the bewilderment in her face and hear it in the wavering in her voice. The crushing disappointment in her left him simmering with barely held back rage.

He hissed, “And I take it that means Yon-rogg has heard everything?”

She didn’t answer so he took that as confirmation. He shook his head, more to himself than her. No matter Carol’s intention or plan; clearly, things had gone out of hand. She hardly seemed to notice, her gaze inward with carefully managed emotions that showed only as glazed, unseeing eyes and shallow breaths.

“ _ I can handle Yon-rogg. And I’m going to fix this, Talos, I promise...” _

“You’ve done enough!” he growled on impulse, harshly silencing her with his judgment. “I’m not without allies here. Or resources.” The last bit was a lie but it didn’t matter. Let the Kree Commander believe the Skrulls had the high ground. He continued, somewhat calmer but it came out sounding like a snarl, “Go make sure your family is safe, Captain. And until you have a secure line, don’t contact me again.”

With that, he abruptly closed the call. The beast clawed at its confines. An involuntary growl rose in his throat.

Talos used to consider himself above disappointment, that he was so used to expect the worst and the darkest at this point in life that nothing could truly touch him. But Carol had just done that. He had thought of her as an equal when in fact she was a kind hearted novice with the power of a supernova.  _ He _ was the naive one, not Carol.

His body felt impossibly heavy. With slow, staggering steps he turned around. He struggled to remember what he was supposed to be doing here. The plan he had outlined to perfect detail earlier was no use to him now. He pulled a hand over his face, willing some life back into himself.

“Talos,” an old man’s voice sounded. Talos looked up. Ruza stood in the doorway. No one else was present.

“Grandfather,” Talos whispered and moved almost on instinct towards the old Skrull. His oldest relative took his shoulders in thin but surprisingly strong hands and greeted him with their foreheads pressed together.

“Dear boy,” the old man said, his voice warm and sincere. “I’m heartbroken for you.”

The simple yet powerful gesture nearly caused his sorrow to break through his resolve but he pushed it back; he did Soren no service by wasting her time. Talos took a step back from Ruza and looked into the elder’s eyes. After collecting himself with a tense breath, he uttered the words he could have sworn he would never say.

“I wish to call for a Vote.”

***

Ruza had insisted that he would rest before standing before the Council. The Vote was not an easy ordeal. Also, his accusations towards Veranke had to be considered and the Council would also, as custom dictated, make attempts to reach the other Generals of the fleet to request their opinions on him. At least, with the entire Council in place and the thoroughgoing debate on the subject already behind, the preparations and procedures would go swiftly.

Talos had been shown to one of the guest quarters. The Meiach’Un had many of those; the vast vessel could fit twice the number of Skrulls currently on it; another testimony to their dwindling numbers. The warrior who had escorted him previously, whose name he had learned was Meret, had brought some refreshments but he had no appetite.

He restlessly checked the time left between now and the arrival of the Mar-vell. With no military resources available at present, he had no choice but to wait for his meager fleet from  _ Soren  _ to arrive. However much he ached to take action, he stood no chance alone.

Sleep was out of the question. At any still moment, nothing was on his mind but the fear of what the Kree would do to Soren. Talos had seen the work their interrogators did. Sometimes continuing even after their charge had cried out their last secret. Their practices contradicted everything he Kree claimed to be true about themselves.

Talos understood, on an intellectual level, the things Carol had told him about the Kree. How their young were indoctrinated. About the omnipresent, intrusive control their ai exercised over every single individual. How no one really had a choice but to comply. But those facts were small and insignificant now, compared to what they had done to his people. To his woman.

He hated them.

The Vote was a one-off, half mad idea that had come to him the moment he realized he had no plan anymore. Talos did not expect it to succeed. He didn’t feel particularly worthy. Or well suited. He was still plagued by the losses suffered in his search for Mar-vell and her light-speed engine, all which, in all honesty, had resulted in nothing of value to his people. Carol discounted.

The idea that he would soon stand as monarch candidate before the leaders of his people was surreal and distant. Stripped of every worldly possession save for his dusty and worn travel clothes, Talos felt nothing like the part he was about to play. He rose tiredly and shuffled to the bathroom. He might as well clean himself up.

His skin and his clothes were still lush with the smell of Soren. He pulled the shirt over his head, bundled it up and dug his nose into it. Then he reluctantly folded his clothes and washed the grime and dust from their hardships off himself.

When stepping out of the shower, he was surprised to find Ruza in his quarters, calmly waiting on a stool. On the floor beside the elderly Skrull was a purple and black bundle.

“Grandfather,” Talos greeted hesitantly. Was it already time?

The old Skrull smiled. “I did not mean to intrude.” He looked briefly down at the bundle. “I brought you something for the occasion.”

Talos walked to the bundle, opening the first fold. It was an armor. Beautifully crafted. He was overwhelmed.

“I can’t accept this,” he said. Three, maybe four of those armors still existed. Much like the Meiach’Un, a sore reminder of their once proud nation.

Ruza smiled at his hesitation. “Don’t be daft Talos. I will not wear it again. About time I passed it on.”

Talos swallowed against a throat that had gone dry. “Thank you.”

It had been too long since he reconnected with his kin. His separation for his family had isolated him from his nation, as well. He had had to fight them in order to continue his search for Mar-vell. The elders had been an obstacle to overcome, not a point of stability or comfort.

Ruza rose. “I will leave you in peace. Meret will come for you when it’s time.”

Again, Talos was left with only his thoughts for company. He forced himself to eat and drink, even if it all tasted like ash.

The armor fit him well. It was a strange feeling to see himself in the mirror like this. Like he was playing dress-up as a hero.

Talos wondered fleetingly what his parents might have said to him if they still lived. If they would be proud of him. They never had a chance to see what became of his life. Both had passed to the beyond when Talos was just out of training, killed as the cruiser they were both stationed on was shot down on its way to Torfa.

Meret’s polite knock on the door put an abrupt end to his thoughts. He followed the warrior through the hallways. Everyone they met greeted him with silent nods. Talos' pulse quickened as the tension grew denser around him. A collective, breathless suspense which he cut through like a blade.

At the entrance to the Council hall, Meret stopped, gesturing for him to enter by himself. The ornate doors closed behind him with an ominous bang. Talos walked down a few steps to reach the circular floor. The round space was sharply lit from above by a lightwell. He stopped in the middle, slowly turning to get a view of all the nine faces surrounding him.

Mazahk took a slight step forward so that the light reached her face. Her thin voice was surprisingly loud in the echo of the room. “Talos, son of Orla and Tamren, descendant of Juri and the nation of Parashu. As a General of our fleet you have the right to, once in your life, ask for the honor of being chosen as our nation’s monarch. Is this your wish?”

He forced the foreign words from his throat. “I ask to be your chosen King.”

“The one who asks this of our nation is required to give themselves up, to share themselves with our leaders to prove their trust, so that trust may be given in return. Do you submit yourself?”

His chest contracted with nervousness. He had done this only once before. With Soren, the time they had been bonded.  _ Sharing _ wasn’t shifting. Sharing was mutual and could only occur between Skrulls. It had been a challenge for him then. Soren was a natural. She had shown him how to be gentle and how to allow her access.

“ _ You’re still fighting me,” Soren smiled. “Be with me” _

The memory brought a smile to him. He let out a breath and let his resistance float away at the same time.

“I submit myself.”

One after another, he felt the Council members' minds brush over his, testing him to see if his courage held. Nine minds invading his own. He closed his eyes and kept thinking of Soren.

_ She pressed her forehead to his. “Will you share with me, Talos? You have to say ‘yes’ or I won’t do it.” _

For all their physical intimacy, the idea of her seeing all he was had scared him witless. Soren was ashamed of her body but Talos was ashamed of his soul. Where he patiently coaxed her out of her shell and let her know how desirable she was, she had taken command to teach him how all of him could deserve her love.

It felt like the snap of a cord, a membrane suddenly relaxing and softly bulging against the movement of the others. A gentle pull of thoughts and feelings, flexibly moving back and forth in time and space. He let himself be rocked by it, let go of his control. Greed, want, need – none of it seemed to matter. He ceased to exist and expanded at the same time. Then, the movement receded. He fell back into himself, once again contained in his own shell.

When Talos opened his eyes, the nine faces looking back at him, were his own.

Silence hung heavy. Talos shivered slightly. It was eerie and moving at the same time that he had just laid himself open for the nine individuals surrounding him, pinning him with their impending assessment of his soul.

The first shifted back. After an impossibly tense pause, they said ‘yes’. Talos gut clenched. The next continued, and the next and the next, all voting in favor, until only Mazahk and Ruza remained. Ruza was first, meeting Talos’s gaze with a barely visible smile before uttering ‘yes’.

Mazahk released his form, then paused and studied him contemplatively. Talos forgot to breathe. She raised her chin a little, now looking at him with a soft smile and a slight nod.

“Yes.”

The word echoed through the room. A collective breath was drawn. Or released. Talos couldn’t determine which. His own senses were blurred by his own astonishment.

Ruza moved to stand in front of him, a golden band in his hands, engraved with ancient runes surrounding two suns, one at the front, one at the back. The suns of Skrullos. Talos bowed his head slightly to give him access. The metal was cold against his skin. Not once in his life had he dreamed of this but standing here, feeling the weight of the crown settle on his head, he couldn’t help his heart from beating furiously.

Behind Ruza, Mazehk spoke formally. “The Council has deemed you worthy, Talos, son of Orla and Tamren, descendant of Juri and the nation of Parashu. We return your trust with our own, knowing you will lead our warriors with  _ wisdom _ and  _ compassion _ . This power is yours until the end of your life, or until you willingly return the Crown of Skrullos to her Elders.”

Behind him, the doors opened and Skrull warriors came flooding into the hall. Some faces were familiar but most were strangers to him. Many smiled. Mazahk raised her paper thin voice so it somehow carried above the rustle of the many moving bodies.

“King Talos of Skrullos.”

The words were repeated among the gathered. Talos knew it would continue through the ship, to the comm operators, until the word had reached every outpost in their exile nation.

Traditionally, a Vote would be succeeded by a drawn out celebration. That was not possible at this instance, naturally. As soon as people began to disperse, Talos approached Meret, promptly handing out his first order:

“Get me a list of what resources are available - warriors, ships, weaponry. Also relay an order to the quartermasters; the Meiach’Un will receive around two hundred refugees that need housing and everything else. Ensure a swift transition, refueling and supplies. We need to get those ships moving.”

Meret nodded enthusiastically, turned on her heel and disappeared.

The crowd ebbed out. Talos needed to get going but he also needed answers. He strode to Ruza just as the nine elders began to make their way out of the chamber. The old man met his gaze and stopped in his tracks.

“I don’t understand,” Talos said bluntly.

Ruza tilted his head and gave him a curious look. “You thought the Council would prefer Veranke as Queen to you as King?”

“Yes.”

“You want to know why we accepted you? I can’t speak for the others.” He smiled wistfully. “You never were keen to learn your history. Too restless.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“There was a time when choosing a warrior for monarch was the exception rather than the rule. The warrior monarchs came with the war. With the Kree.”

“We had to adapt. We needed leaders who understood war,” Talos filled in.

“And you don’t?” Ruza’s eyebrows shot up, looking almost amused. As if Talos’s reaction was entirely expected.

“I’m not sure anymore,” Talos grumbled. “I don’t think I… I don’t know if I’m being objective. I’m not sure about anything, anymore.”

Ruza looked compassionately at him. “Do you think self doubt makes you weak? Unsuited to lead?”

Talos shrugged and shook his head. “Doesn’t it?”

“Talos. I want us to  _ win _ against the Kree. Not  _ become _ them.” Ruza lay his skinny hand over Talos’s heart. Talos added his own hand to it and smiled tightly.

"I will try."

***

Talos first tasked himself to get an overview of his resources. His conclusion was, unsurprisingly, that they were few and spread thin. He made a point that he wasn’t expecting the Generals, most of which were hiding, spying or on long-term search and rescue missions, to appear before him.

Only one particular General was of interest to him.

“General Veranke.” Talos let the weight of his new authority resounded in his voice. Veranke looked apprehensive, then resentful. Arms crossed, chin high.

The hologram of her stood as tall as him here in the Meiach’Un’s command room. He could see every subtle shift in the General, as if she stood physically before him. With ill-hidden reluctance she managed to respond with a curt, “Majesty.”

He tried to not find the situation amusing. The irony was palpable as he until recently had expected their roles to be reversed. But on a second thought – let her have it. He smiled maliciously. “I suppose I can understand your surprise,” he said smoothly, “considering your last report on my whereabouts was that I had been left stranded on Pallakor.”

She cocked her head, scoffing, “What a pitiful way to begin your reign, by throwing unfounded accusations around.”

Talos shook his head slowly, smile lingering. “Not at all unfounded. But you’re right.” He became serious. “Time’s wasting; I will get to the point.”

She took a wider stance and clasped her hands behind her back, symbolically making a stand. “If your plan is to drag me back to the Council and put me on trial...”

“I’m not,” he cut her off sharply, then continued quieter, “I’m not going to put you on trial for your crimes against  _ me _ . Not if you withdraw. Now.”

Veranke seemed at loss for words. Talos could continue this verbal sparring for a long while, enjoying every moment of it. If not for Soren.

Because he needed Veranke’s fleet. Talos carefully reined in his malice. Veranke may not sympathize with him or his ideals but she was a practically minded strategist. She knew how to make deals.

“The Council knows you sold our planet out to the Kree. But because we managed to save the civilians, I am prepared to ask for a complete exoneration. If you withdraw and return.”

Veranke made a show of indignation but her voice wavered, “What fascinating imagination you have.” Talos ignored the interjection. It was but the reflexive kick of a dying animal. He had already won.

“However, your impending attack on Earth,” he raised his brow when she looked like she was about to deny it. “… isn’t illegal. Strictly speaking. Danvers’s aid to our enemy puts her loyalty in question. To say the least.”

His adversary looked surprised. There was a lilt of hopefulness in her voice. “We are so close, Talos. So close to winning the war; the Kree are bleeding as we speak. If you agree with me about Danvers, then… Perhaps we can work together.”

Talos felt like he was carefully circling her, beating the whip against the ground while at the same time offering a way out. “I had hoped so, too. Which is why I am  _ ordering _ your immediate withdrawal from Earth, General. Danvers have acted in exceptionable ways but she is still our ally. Let’s not give her cause to think otherwise.”

“I can’t do that. If I pull out now, all is lost.”

Talos cursed the infernal stubbornness of Skrull women. Be they traitors or wives, he always seemed to underestimate their resolve. “It’s not too late. Turn back while you still can.”

“You have no idea what’s at stake.”

He paused, eyeing her closely. “Bet it all on one card, as usual, Veranke?”

“Says the man who threw away an army to save his woman,” she snorted.

Guilt and rage tumbled around each other in his belly. Veranke would not turn, that much was clear. The sliver of hope Talos had had of freeing Soren before it was too late was snuffed out. He grew cold as hope left his body, replaced with a hunger that only blood could sate.

“I will find you,” he said with deadly calm, “And when I do, you will lose everything.”

“We’ll see,” she returned with an arrogant sneer. “I’m pretty good at what I do.”

“ _ Good _ can’t protect you from me.”

“Bye Talos.”

The connection broke.

***

When Talos left the Command room, Meret appeared at his side, informing him that the Mar-vell was inbound together with a dozen smaller ships. Fuel, supplies, ammunition, energy cells and everything else they would need was ready to be loaded. They walked swiftly towards the docking bay.

“Well done. I need a quartermaster for the Mar-vell. Interested?” he asked while eyeing the list she had handed him.

She startled. “Yes, Majesty."

He resisted rolling his eyes. He would never be comfortable with being called that. Except by Veranke, perhaps. “Excellent. You'll meet her Captain in a moment.”

The Mar-vell was too big to fit in the hangars. Instead it docked with the Meiach’Un to allow a swift transition. Refugees out; warriors in.

The people on the Mar-vell had, like everyone else, been informed of Talos’s accession. The first few to appear still looked startled at the sight of him, but tension broke as Indes pushed past the first few and ran towards him. Relief and dread clashed inside him at the sight of his daughter. A miniature version of Soren in his eyes.

“Dad!” she whimpered with her little arms clinging around his neck. “You’re King!” she exclaimed next with an excited little chirp.

Talos smiled awkwardly, lowering himself to set Indes down on the floor. Tank disembarked. The warrior was in her true skin now. Short, round faced, with muscles bulging under the fabric of her shirt sleeves. She met his gaze seriously and shook her head once. She had not told Indes.

“Captain!” Talos called out to her. “Meet your new quartermaster; Meret. I trust you two to get the Mar-vell ready. We have no time to lose.”

The two women gave each other equally measuring gazes. Meret was a good deal taller than Tank, but younger, with a sober firmness compared to Tank’s roguishness. “Okay,” Tank said curtly and shrugged, as if Meret had passed some form of trial. “Let’s get going. What’s first on our list?”

Talos allowed himself to smile a little. Meret’s keen mind would be a good counterweight to Tank’s brashness. If the two could learn to tolerate each other.

Indes looked at him with hopeful eyes, asking the question he wished he didn’t have to answer.

“Darling,” he said softly and sat down on his hunches, pulling the girl close.

“Where’s mom?” she asked seriously. He met her gaze, amazed at the profoundness he found there. So much like her mother.

“She’s been captured. By the Kree.” Talos wouldn’t lie to her. Tank had only meant that it should come from him first.

“Is she coming back? Is she dead?” the child demanded.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly.

The child’s eyes became glazed and she bit her lip, staring at something far away. “I wish the Kree were all dead.”

Talos thought about the death of his own parents. He found nothing of value to help him at this moment. He looked at the floor, fearing he would let his own despair overwhelm his child.

A little hand stroked his cheek. “Dad.”

A tear escaped his eye. He swallowed. He wanted to promise his daughter that he would get Soren back. That he would fix everything and that they would live happy together for the rest of their lives. That ahead of them was a brighter, benevolent future.

He took her hand in his. “I am sorry I couldn’t protect your mother, Indes.”

She sniffed a few times. “I am so scared.” Her lip trembled.

“Me too,” he gathered her in his arms. Then she finally cried, a tender, fractured wail that would have shattered his heart if it wasn’t already broken. “Me too, darling.”

Knowing the Mar-vell was being prepped without need of his involvement, Talos indulged himself to spend the time he had with Indes. He told her, in what detail he could with respect for her age, what had happened to her mother. How brave and strong Soren was. How proud they should be of her. He was convinced that whatever happened to him, Indes would be better off knowing what really happened, and that he had been honest with her.

The story left him weighed down with guilt and he found himself asking forgiveness – again – that he had failed to bring back her mother. Indes frowned.

“Why do you say you are sorry when the Kree and Veranke did all this?” the youngling said.

He tried to think of what words to use to explain to her. “I guess,” he hesitated. “I guess that doesn’t make much sense.”

“No,” the child stated factually. “It doesn’t. Now go get mom.”

There it was. The King of the Skrulls had just been chastised by his young daughter; told to stop rolling around in his self-blame and direct his energy to where it was needed. Pressing his forehead gently to Indes’s, he vowed, “I will.”

Far in the background, Tank called out that they were ready. It was time to go again. He held his daughter close for another moment, whispering to her how loved she was. Then he relinquished her, rose and walked to the Mar-vell without turning back.

He made his way to the bridge. Tank was ready at the controls, looking uncharacteristically severe. Still, a smile sneaked through the seriousness.

“Where to,  _ Majesty _ ?”

Better get used to it I guess, Talos thought. Not least because Tank would tease him until it wasn’t fun anymore. “Earth. We have a General to bring to heel.”


	16. Carol

She woke up naked under the cover in Yon-Rogg’s bunk. She had the entire mattress to herself and had consequently sprawled herself diagonally with her legs and arms wide and one knee tucked up against her body. The bedding smelled intensely of Yon. She dug her nose into the pillow that they had somehow managed to share. She wondered for how long she might be able to uphold the illusion that all was well. Everything in her felt at peace, fulfilled by his closeness. Would she be able to walk away, to be satisfied with this brief, temporary reconciliation?

Steps approached. She propped herself up on her elbow and smothered a yawn. Yon-rogg appeared in the doorway, carrying a bowl and a cup. He was dressed in casual wear. Black, gray and green. Soft trousers and a wrap around, short-sleeved shirt. He had already cleaned himself up. The armor that was previously left on the floor had been taken care of, too. Their gazes locked for a moment as they recognized what had surpassed, searching for clues to what it meant for the other.

She broke the tension with a wry smile, “You know I never eat breakfast.”

His posture relaxed and he moved to the bed with the food. The content of the bowl was familiar. Protein granulate and grain porridge. Standard space food. It didn’t taste terrible, but she found the texture appalling.

“But you should,” he admonished softly and handed over the steel cup. She sat up on the edge and held the cover across her front, keeping it in place with her armpits. Until one year ago, she’d never understood why she always wanted a hot drink when she woke up. With a caffeine tab in it.

“What’s the time?” she asked and sipped the steaming, sweetened drink.

“One hour to deployment.” His voice and face were neutral. It annoyed her a little.

He was clean and dressed. She was naked and ruffled, dried sweat sticking to every surface of her body. It made her feel exposed, caught into something she shouldn’t be messing with. Although they had very much been messing together.

She glowered at him. “You let me sleep for how long..?”

“You needed sleep.” He firmly held the bowl to her, not accepting her refusal. Carol took it, not sure why she let him boss her around. She was on the verge of telling him he was just like Maria, fussing over her like this. But that would mean nothing to him, and explaining who her best friend was would only reawaken the worst of their shared memories.

Perhaps he noticed her darkened mood, taking it as a cue to retreat. “I’m needed at the controls,” he said, already turning away. “You should get ready.”

She nodded without looking at him as he left. Back to the regular order of the day, then. This was the most they could have, their perpetual argument interrupted only by the insistence of their bodies. Nothing was resolved. They were still as much at odds with each other’s beliefs as the day before. As the day they faced off in the desert.

The food was as terrible as she remembered but she ate dutifully, admitting that she was pretty hungry. Sex did that to her. Her casual wear were folded neatly on the floor beside the bunk. She shook her head and couldn’t help smiling at the gesture. Classic Yon. The warmth in her heart collided with sorrow. Was it nostalgia she felt? Impossible.

After breakfast she took a quick shower. Actually, onboard showers were always quick. The water was just warm enough and the ray too sharp and thin. All things on the Helion were designed for efficiency, not pleasure. The Aegis, she reminded herself.

She put on her uniform and went to the cockpit where she found Yon-rogg already geared up and ready.

“Jump in two minutes,” he said with jarringly professional tone. Like they were just on a mission. Nothing personal between them.

She sat in the copilot chair, her mind preoccupied with the memory his weight on her, his breath on her neck, her name sung like a prayer as pleasure ripped through their bodies. She took a deep breath and tried to force herself into the present; into the same cold acceptance that he emanated from him, his eyes forward or on the instruments, one hand on the control wheel, the other on the jump point interface.

They reached the jump point and were back again into Cambril system. Their last stop. The fleet emerged behind them, mostly out of their view. The rest was routine now. Instead of On-sar calling Yon-rogg, the Captain in command of the operation called Carol directly, detailing the layout of the evac zones and the places where the civilians had taken cover.

They neared the lush, green planet. She was on her way to the airlock when she suddenly hesitated, turning around. Yon-rogg was still focused on the controls, steering manually. Finding the right words was hard. Saying them was harder.

“Will you be here... when I return?”

She wasn’t sure if she meant after the planet was evacuated, or when she returned after helping the Skrulls. Or something else.

He answered after a moment's hesitation, “I’ll be in orbit as usual, if that’s what you mean.”

“And then?” she asked tentatively. She couldn’t shake the fear that he would ghost on her any moment. It might be for the better, but she desperately wanted to be sure he wasn’t just going to disappear.

Cambril grew larger in their view.

“It’s time.” His tone was final; she had to accept the meager reassurance he’d already offered.

She plunged through the dense atmosphere but hardly felt the friction. The thrill of her powers was replaced by numbness. Her heart still stung at the view of the casualties, at the panicked faces of the people she was trying to save, but it was all distant. Like her body was here but her soul somewhere else.

One transport, two, ten. It kept going. The lush vegetation would have been beautiful in another context but now it was just a hindrance. She blasted a few ancient trees away to provide a better view. The destruction was nothing compared to what the Accusers would do to the place. Carol wondered how long it would take for the purged planets to recover. If they ever would. A reasonable alternative would be to leave the docs to starve, and return once they had found a vaccine or something that gave immunity. But the Kree were not the patient kind. They solved their problems with force and brutality. But was she really so different? She was Kree-made after all. Forged part by Mar-vell, part by Yon-rogg. One had given her powers, the other the strength to use them.

When all transports were finally in the air, the Accusers had arrived. All but one, she noticed. She opened her comm, calling Yon-rogg rather than On-sar. “The Silver Aster is missing. Did something happen on the last world?”

Yon-rogg answered swiftly, “ _ Nothing happened. Ronan has been called by the Supreme Intelligence to another task. The remaining warships are more than enough _ .”

Carol suspected this to be only a half truth but had nothing concrete to build her argument on, so she let it be. 

The fleet was leaving. The Nemesis was already gone, it seemed. Carol had expected On-Sar to at least give her a goodbye or something to mark the end of their temporary alliance.

True to his word, Yon-rogg remained in orbit. Soon they were face to face again but with no determined direction ahead. Carol never got tired from using her powers, they seemed to work on an entirely different plane than her body did. Still, standing in the assembly area, facing him, she felt exhausted.

Technically, they were enemies now. She had no energy for it.

“What now?” she asked flatly with a shrug.

He looked intently at her, expression unreadable. “We find you a ship. Then you can be on your way.”

Her heart sank a little but she attempted to sound carefree. “Sounds good. Knowhere?” He hesitated. “Something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Raxon Prime has a decent ship market. And it’s closer.”

“Can’t wait to get rid of me?”

He sighed. “I’m just fulfilling my promise to replace your ship.” There was something listless about him. Like the spark had gone out.

He had softened so she tried to soften too. “I need to find someone in Exitar. So Knowhere it is.”

The last thing she heard from Talos and Soren was that they had met allies at Knowhere. If she could find them, she might be able to track down what had happened.

Yon-rogg still looked reluctant but nodded. “Fine. I’ll set a course.”

Her comm flashed. She instantly lifted her hand and opened her suit’s holo display. It was Talos. She almost cried out with relief. She walked to her dorm to achieve at least an illusion of privacy.

“Talos, thank God!“ she exclaimed, her heart soaring with relief. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“ _ Soren has been captured by the Kree.” _

“What?!” Carol froze, blinked and shook her head in confusion. How was it possible? If the Kree had taken Soren, did it mean they thought she was involved with the attack? Carol was not an eye-for-an-eye person but in this case.... “Who took her? Where is she?”

Talos was all tight-bitten focus.  _ “I don’t know that yet. Veranke had a man, one of our own, on Pallakor. We got outmaneuvered and lost the Hanzar and our comms. You remember Vorik? Our fleet technician?” _

“What about him?”

_ “It was him. Sent by Veranke, to watch you.” _

Carol felt furious and weak with helplessness at the same time. Despite her power she was being played by one and the other, thrown around the galaxy like a ping pong ball wherever and whenever someone’s need was greater. She couldn't be everywhere at once so naturally, Veranke had made sure to keep herself informed. 

“That conniving, two-faced bitch,” Carol muttered.

_ “Vorik left a drop ship, one of the Mar-vell’s. He had sabotaged it but we could fix it. It only takes one and...” _ He looked away a moment.  _ “… and Soren was adamant that I should go. She wanted to stay, to find whatever she could from that laboratory. It was where the drocs were created and it was a Kree research facility to begin with. She thought there might be valuable information stored in the data banks.” _

_ “ _ So Pallakor was a Kree planet?”

_ “Seems so. Do you have  _ any _ idea how the Kree found out?” _

Something cold and heavy landed in her stomach. She did know. But only in this moment did she fully connect the dots. There was nothing to do but tell the truth. She told him about the freighter, the med pods and the Skrull prisoner who had asked her to kill him.

“ _ So you did.” _ His voice was like a bowstring.

“No.” Something in her broke. She felt nauseous. She was desperate to make him understand that she hadn’t meant for this to happen. “I couldn’t, Talos!”

He contemplated her quietly for a moment, his face a stony mask but she could feel his resentment.  _ “That was a mistake.” _

Carol fumbled after anything that could solve the situation. She was the most powerful being in the galaxy, wasn’t she? She could fix this. No problem. “I will fix this. I promise. Admiral On-sar on the Nemesis had the prisoner. I bet that’s where Soren is too.”

Again, there was an achingly long pause.

“ _ Veranke is going to attack Earth.” _

Carol’s initial shock at the news was interrupted by steps approaching in the hallway. She looked up from the hologram of Talos. Yon-rogg met her gaze, his face alone conveying a thousand words about how she was naive to think  _ they _ wouldn’t turn on her eventually. That all this time, he was right. And this was proof.

“What? Why would she..?” The answer to her question was obvious, she realized after a moment. “To get to me.” Again, Yon-rogg drew her gaze. The little muscles on his cheeks and temples played as he tensed and relaxed his jaw, his mouth a thin hard line.

“ _ Who else is there?” _

If there was any way for her to not answer his question, she would do so. Yon-rogg kept his eyes on her while she weighed her options. She remembered the talk she and Talos had had after her trip to Knowhere. The importance of trust. She had to tell him. Even if he would resent her.

_ “ _ Yon-rogg. The Chevy was destroyed. I’m on the Aegis now. We just finished the last evac.”

She held her breath, waiting for the inevitable fallout, looking at the floor panels, studying every little bolt and dent.

_ “And I take it that means Yon-rogg has heard everything?” _

Talos’s disappointment landed heavily on her. A panicky response burbled from her, “I can handle Yon-rogg. And I’m going to fix this, Talos, I promise...”

“ _ You’ve done enough!” _ he growled.

Her throat tightened. She clenched her jaw and breathed in little puffs through her nose. Everything to stop the tears that threatened to well up. The worst part was that she understood him. She could see herself from his side and the disaster she had pulled him and Soren into. It  _ was  _ her fault.

“ _ I’m not without allies here. Or resources,” _ Talos continued with icy disaffection that stung her heart with every syllable.  _ “Go make sure your family is safe, Captain. And until you have a secure line, don’t contact me again.” _

The connection snapped off. With her hand still held out before her, she stood frozen until firm hands grasped her shoulders.

“Don’t listen to him. It’s a trap.” Yon-rogg spoke softly, concern and worry written all over his face.

She shrugged him off, her eyes flitting as aimlessly as her thoughts. Her heart hammered. She wanted to cry but also to hit something, anything to channel the anger and helplessness. She drifted rather than walked towards the cockpit.

“Please listen to me!” Yon-rogg called after her.

The fear in his voice stalled her. She looked at him over her shoulder. He took that as a cue and walked to her.

“Please,” he stopped close behind her but didn’t touch her.

“Please what?” she asked, closing her eyes already knowing the flow of indoctrinated rubbish he would blurt out. But instead, he sounded resigned.

“I think… I understand. They really are your friends. But so was I. And I lied to you even though you were important to me. Even though I…  _ cared _ for you. More than I should have.”

Carol thought she would burst. He was so wrong and so right at the same time. So sincere and well-meaning, but from a misguided place.

His voice grew in strength. “Carol, I lied to you.  _ Me _ . Because of your power. It’s the only thing anyone can use to control you.”

So, according to his logic, it would be no match for Talos to do the same. It was ironic but he couldn’t possibly understand why and explaining that to him was not a proper use of time right now.

“And what now?” she asked, flapping her arms against her sides, turning to face him. “Are there no more lies between us?”

He swallowed, silent as he found himself caught by his own argument.

“Oh my God.” She rolled her eyes. “I have no time for this. I need to call On-sar. And go to Earth.” She raised her arm and opened the interface.

“It will make no difference,” he stated coldly. “You are the Empire’s enemy, regardless. On-sar won’t release a valuable prisoner like a Skrull scientist – possibly the one responsible for the drocs – just because you demand it.

Carol snapped. “Soren is not responsible! She risked _everything_ to find a cure. For you. Because despite what you’ve done to her people she still knows right from wrong!”

Still fuming, watching him angrily from the corner of her eye, she opened her comm to call On-sar. Seconds passed by and no response came.

Yon-rogg sighed patiently, “The Admiral won’t talk to me either.”

“God dammit!” 

She had to hit something so she crashed her fist into the wall panel. It left a depression in the metal. Yon-rogg winced, but didn't say anything. Instead, he moved closer, tentatively reaching his arms around her, wary of the possibility that she might lash out at him, too. When she relaxed a little, his arms wrapped her more firmly.

“On-sar knows?” Carol mumbled, turning her head to rest it on his shoulder. She had intended to add  _ about us  _ but lost her nerve. She wasn't even sure that's how he thought of it.

“She knows,” he confirmed, sending a tingle through her heart.

While it felt wonderful, now that her temper cooled the meaning of his previous statement began to sink in. She gulped, pushing him off herself with a firm, slow movement. “Though I never said that  _ Soren  _ was the scientist.”

His lips parted a little. He looked away.

“How did you find out who Soren is?” Carol demanded. “And don’t lie.”

“I bugged your ship.” He straightened, showing that he wasn’t ashamed or regretful.

The memory of the kiss flashed through her mind, now sullied by knowing his true intentions.

“You bastard.” She pushed him in the chest but he relented, grabbing her wrists, unfazed by the way her hands glowed.

“What were my alternatives?” he asked, his voice now charged with conviction. “You risked the safety of my people based on your shallow, empty alliance with our ancient enemy. What do you think that meant – for me?”

“You could have trusted me, for starters!” Carol raged back, jerking her hands free without effort.

“Like you trusted me?” he retorted vehemently.

She looked confused at him, not knowing what he was referring to. He shook his head and his face twisted into a half smile, half snarl. “I was prepared to tell you everything. To answer all your questions. So I came alone.”

Carol’s anger lost its purchase for a moment, eyes wide as she realized what he was referring to. 

“But no.” He gave joyless, breathy laugh and shook his head. ”Rather than face me, you let a Skrull simm you."

“You’re lying,” she said reflexively, stepping back from him. How was it even possible that she could feel threatened, knowing well she had the power to punch him through the hull at any given moment?

“Everything’s simple to you now, isn’t it?” he scoffed, hinting at her glowing hands. “What are you waiting for? Blast me. That’s how you solve all your problems.”

The photon glow burned like righteous fire in her veins. She wanted to blast him. Desperately so. It would feel great to knock the sense out of him. But it would change absolutely nothing. Neither his loyalty to the Supremor nor her feelings for him.

With a controlled breath, she quelled the glow. “I hate you so much.”

Yon-rogg seemed to misunderstand this as a sign that he was winning the argument. He closed in on her, hands hovering over her shoulders but not touching her. “Hate me all you want. Just don’t go. They clearly want you to. It’s a trap.”

She almost laughed out loud. When had that  _ ever  _ worked on her?

“Then I’ll spring it and chase Veranke off my planet with her coattails burning. Also ’they’ aren’t the same fraction. Veranke and Talos despise each other. Kree war intelligence has really gotten lax.”

Carol turned and walked to the cockpit before he could respond. She opened the jump point interface to find the fastest route to Earth. Going there was the only choice that made sense but the thought of leaving Soren in the clutches of the Kree made her nauseous. She prayed that Talos hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he had the resources to save her. She prayed he wouldn’t get himself killed in a desperate attempt regardless.

“Carol...” Yon-rogg appeared behind her.

She replied without looking at him. “Your opinion means absolutely zero to me at this point so you might as well shut the hell up and get out of my way.”

They were both still for a moment. He gave a deep sigh and took the copilot seat, looking sullenly ahead. She adjusted their course to the nearest jump point, plotted a path and finally set the ship to autopilot. The idea emerged that she might have to guard the cockpit for the entire journey to prevent him from intervening. It would take too long – eventually she would have to eat and drink and go to the bathroom. Perhaps she could put restraints on him and leave him in the assembly area?

“I don’t trust you,” she said aloud.

“How enlightening,” he replied dully.

“And I don’t have time for a detour to drop you off, or get another ship. Besides, the Aegis suits me fine. All in all,” she turned to him, “that means you aren’t allowed to be by yourself while I’m not in the cockpit.”

“So I’m your prisoner?”

She shrugged. “I guess so.”

He rose and walked aftward without a word.

“Where are you going?” she called over her shoulder, a little wary.

His voice echoed from the assembly area.“If I’m a prisoner I might as well get us something to eat.”

She briefly considered the fact that he might revoke her permission to command the Aegis, but if he did she would just attempt to short circuit the whole thing with her powers. Not the preferable option and he probably realized that too.

After the first jump point waited a boring run in orbit around an abandoned star system with a giant red star. Carol stubbornly remained in the cockpit. It wasn’t just because she was afraid he might change their course or call in the Accusers – like he had last time. The cockpit was a comforting place for her to process things. She sometimes switched to manual control just to have something to preoccupy herself. It helped her mind work.

She sent a message to Fury’s pager: ‘Possible Skrull attack on Earth. Talos still on our side. Get Maria and family safety.’

Carol had more details to offer, but the limited numbers of characters that the pager could manage forced her to keep the message short.

The delayed response eventually came. _ ‘Sent a chopper for Maria and family. Who’s the enemy then?’ _

She texted back; ‘Skrull General Veranke. She's insane and it's personal. I'm on my way.’

It would be another long wait before the response came. Carol let the autopilot do the work and leaned back. Space travel, albeit mind boggling speeds and technology, could be so frustratingly slow.

“You need to sleep.” Yon-rogg again, appearing behind her like a ghost.

“So you can reset our course and call in the Accusers on my home planet?” She yawned. “Not gonna happen.”

“I’ll give you full permissions.”

She bolted up straight, spinning the chair around to look at him, a confused furrow forming between her eyebrows.

He wasn’t looking at her as he spoke, but at the empty space outside. “We don’t know what we’ll face. We need to be rested and focused. If you don’t trust me, then retract my permissions.” He sounded factual but there was that listlessness again. Something she’d never seen in him.

“That  _ we _ will face?” she asked hesitantly.

“I’m right here, am I not?”

“Until you’re not,” she blurted before she could stop herself.

A shadow passed over his face. He nodded. “Until I’m not.” He opened his suit’s interface and a Kree digital voice confirmed the transfer of all permissions from him to her. “The Aegis is yours now.”

She didn’t know what to say. “W-what will you..?”

“I’ll worry about that later.” He reached his open hand out to her. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. Not that she needed the help, but it meant something. Same as giving her command of the ship.

She took an additional step so her momentum brought them flush against each other. She felt molten in the places where their bodies met. As if neither had a choice, and perhaps they didn’t, they kissed.

Carol’s mind raced. This was insane. There was no extenuating circumstance to excuse her desire. She wanted him, simple as that. And not just once, for the thrill of it or to satisfy a fantasy. He was literally in her blood and even if that wasn’t so, she was sure it would have felt the same to be with him. Regardless of how they met and the things he had taken from her, something new had blossomed from that wound. If there was any hope of him finally siding with her, and she couldn’t stop hoping, she would give him all the time he needed.

“Don’t return,” she moaned as he pulled her uniform down to kiss her collarbone. “Stay with me.”

They went to her dorm this time and helped each other undress, pausing to kiss and caress every revealed piece of skin. This time she was curious to learn about him, too. To find the points that made him gasp and tremble. To discover new and exciting tenors in his voice as he prayed and whimpered under her. To be face to face when reaching release and revel in that vulnerability.

“Stay with me,” she said again once her breath slowed, resting her head on his chest. “I don’t want you to go back.”

“I have to.”

“Why?”

He was silent. She shook him gently.

“I have to face the Supreme Intelligence,” he admitted.

“What do you mean?” She rose to her elbow and watched his face. He looked like he was bracing for something.

“I was tasked to bring you in.”

“Woah! Really?” She feigned a shocked face, then burst into laughter.

Yon-rogg on the other hand looked genuinely surprised. “You’re not angry?”

“Not at all,” she shrugged. “Of course that lying circuit cluster would want me back on a leash. But how did it expect you to accomplish that?”

He smiled, sending a little puff of air through his nose. “Persuasion.”

She stroked his cheek and kissed him. “Then don’t go back. You don’t have to side with me or meet my friends, just don’t… make me fight you again.”

“It’s not that simple,” he said seriously. “I have to think of my family.”

She felt stupid. How could she assume he wasn’t as tethered to his home as she was to hers? Perhaps even more so, considering the way the Kree were controlled.

“The Supremor will not look kindly on this though.” She patted his chest, looking over their naked, intertwined bodies. “What will it do to you?”

“I’ll be alright.”

“Liar.”

He swallowed and his gaze flitted away. “There’s nothing we can do about it regardless.”

“I could blow it up.”

He didn’t look half as shocked as she would have expected. “The Supreme Intelligence doesn't exist in just one place. The builders made sure it would survive even the destruction of Hala.”

At some point, Carol could remember someone telling her this. Probably during her introductory education on Hala, where they tried to figure out how much she could ‘remember’ from her previous life.

He continued, “Destroying the grand temple on Hala would only end the lives of the Kree in it, not the Supremor."

She grinned, “Are you giving me advice on how to take out the Supreme Intelligence?”

He shook his head, still serious. “No, I’m telling you that you can’t. So don’t imagine it’s possible, not even for one such as you. No one knows where all the instances of the Supremor are. Some might be hidden mid space.”

She contemplated him, stroking back some curls that were stuck in the sweat on his forehead. She sighed patiently. “We have a lot to work on, I see.”

He gave her a look that was somehow fond and exasperated at the same time. “Are you sufficiently tucked in?”

“Very.”

“Do I still have permissions to use the controls?”

“You’ll see when you get there,” she teased. Truth was, she hadn’t made up her mind yet. Part of her felt like she could trust him on this, that he understood the consequence of letting her down.

“I guess I will. Captain.” He wriggled out of her grasp and kissed her forehead. She grabbed his neck and guided his lips to her own for one final kiss before she gave in to sleep. Leaving him with permissions to command the Aegis.

***

As they neared the final jump point to Earth, Carol was so anxious she had tunnel vision. She had exchanged a few more messages with Fury along the way, answering his questions as best she could. He reported back that Atlanta police had brought in a woman who had been caught inside a power plant. She had disappeared from custody. He also wrote that a quick round call showed similar incidents in several other districts. Despite their disadvantage tech-wise, at least they were on the ball and understood what they were dealing with.

They exited the jump point and Earth’s familiar, blue form appeared, looking as peaceful and alive as ever. Carol drew a sigh of relief. Then the comm lit up. A hologram of a female Skrull with high cheekbones, steady gaze and a confident smirk emerged.

“Veranke,” Carol growled before the other could even state her business. “Big mistake coming here. I will- ”

_ “U-uh,”  _ Veranke had a warning tone, shaking her head with a tsk tsk clicking sound.  _ “You and I are going to talk. Your conspecifics will thank you for your cooperation.” _

“I don’t believe a single thing you say, you lying bitch,” Carol spat. “But out of respect for your crew, I will not blow up your ship. Yet. Prepare to be boarded.”

Veranke smiled, seemingly at ease. _ “I thought so. I look forward to meeting you face to face again, Captain.” _ The connection ended.

Yon-rogg was understandably tense. “You know her?”

“We’ve met.”

Carol gripped the control wheel so hard that her knuckles whitened, steering the Aegis around to face the looming form of the Vindicator. The cruiser emerged into their view from where it had been cloaked in a distant orbit.

Yon-rogg eyed the massive ship ahead of them warily. “Tell me you have a plan.” 

“Sorts of,” she said tightly. “Get Veranke and leave. Make her undo whatever she’s done to my home. And then… take her with us.”

He looked incredulous. “Really? And if she’s responsible for the attack..?”

Carol shrugged, the plan forming in her mind as she spoke. “You can punch her in the face if you want but I need her in one piece. Because then you will talk to the Supremor and we trade her for Soren.”

Yon-rogg looked away, his mouth set in a firm line. She wondered what that meant but they didn’t have time to discuss it further at the moment.

They passed through the force field shielding the hangar opening. Inside, numerous warriors were lined up to meet them, fronted by Veranke. Carol couldn’t take her eyes off her. The Skrull General looked too confident for one who had just been boarded by a dangerously overpowered enemy.

The Aegis made contact with the hangar floor.

Carol suddenly felt uneasy. What might she have overlooked? She looked at Yon-rogg. “It might be better if you stay here. I will be quick. As soon as I have her onboard, we leave. They won’t fire on us if Veranke’s with us.”

He nodded tightly and moved to the pilot seat as she got up. They exchanged a final look. Despite the seriousness of the situation, her mouth quirked. They were a  _ team _ ; what a pleasantly odd feeling.

Carol stomped down the ramp.

“Welcome back to the Vindicator, Captain,” Veranke greeted loftily.

“Cut the crap,” Carol spat and walked into Veranke’s space so they stood face to face. She fired herself up. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit. Get on the ship or I’ll burn you and everyone here to cinders.”

Veranke sighed dramatically. “Ever predictable. Do you really think I expected anything less from you, Captain? I warned you that there would be no neutral ground.” 

Carol narrowed her eyes at the Skrull. The photon rays swirled around them and probably singed Veranke by now but she stood firm, proving to her warriors that Carol did not frighten her. 

Veranke continued, “I’ll be frank with you: You have  _ really  _ complicated things for us. I think it’s only fair that we complicate things for you in return.”

The Skrull General lifted her left arm. On it was something that looked like a bracer. A green light blinked on it by her wrist and on the inner side was an interface module much like the one in the Starforce uniforms. Veranke tapped it’s sleek surface.

“This is a transmitter. If anything happens to me, or if I decide that you’re not cooperating, it will set off explosions on a number of major population centers on Earth.” She looked smugly at Carol who had lost her breath for a moment, her power display dispersing with a weak puff. “Your terran friends might be able to stop one. Perhaps two. But they are inferior to us in every way, and  _ you _ can’t be everywhere at once.” Veranke’s voice lowered a notch and she leaned in. “You’re working for me now, Captain.”

Carol’s chest contracted. She stared at the bracer. Could it be a ruse?

“Do you need a demonstration?” Veranke lifted her brow. “What about the place called… New Orleis?”

“Orleans,” Carol gritted. “New Orleans.” Cold sweat crept up her neck. How was it even possible for Veranke to know this much about her? She thought of Vorik. Of course; he had every possibility to map out her life, tracking her travels, listening to her calls and God knows what else.

“Well?” Veranke asked with a suspenseful lilt. “Shall we see if it works?” She lifted her hand to the bracer, opening a green lit interface. Carol’s mind worked furiously. Real or fake? It was impossible to be certain, but the things Fury had written indicated at least some form of ongoing infiltration. And knowing Veranke...

“Stop!” Carol relented. “What do you want from me?”

Veranke lowered her arm. “You. Your power. Working for me and Skrullos.”

Carol sensed the danger before she saw it. The fraction of a second’s charging hiss from a blaster. She spun around seeing Yon-rogg at the edge of the ramp, firing two quick bolts against Veranke. Carol threw herself aside and just about managed to absorb the blasts.

He looked at her with shock and dismay. She crumbled on the inside, hoping he had caught enough of their conversation to know why she didn’t have a choice.

Behind her, Veranke gave a low chuckle, her voice a satisfied purr like predator that found an unassuming prey in its lair.

“Well, well… Commander of Starforce. What an unexpected honor.”

Yon-rogg kept aiming at Veranke, eyes darting between the Skrull General and Carol.

Carol said the only thing that came to her mind. “He’s my prisoner. I’ll deal with him later.”

A dozen warriors with raised blasters now flanked Yon-rogg. He would not get another chance to fire.

“Get him,” Veranke ordered.

Carol positioned herself in front of her. “No. He is _ my _ prisoner. He stays on my ship.”

Veranke’s lip curled into a leer. She leaned so close to Carol their noses almost touched, her voice dripping with malice. “You have an odd way of treating your prisoners, Captain.” She leaned even closer, turning her head so she could whisper into Carol’s ear. “I can smell him on you.”

Hot indignation and shame rose to Carol’s face. She turned to see Yon-rogg disarmed and dragged towards them.

“You’ll release him to me afterwards?” Carol tried to sound authoritative but it came out sounding like a terrified squeak.

Veranke said nothing. She sauntered up to Yon-rogg where he stood fixated between two bulky Skrulls. The General eyed him coolly. “I must confess I had higher expectations of the great Commander Yon-rogg.”

He snorted. “In contrast, you are  _ everything _ I expected. From a Skrull. An honorless coward.”

Veranke seemed unfazed by the insult, even smiling slightly. “The Skrull learned from their enemies. Isn’t that what any great warrior should?”

“Let. Him. Go,” Carol demanded and walked towards them with her fists glowing again. Around her, Veranke’s warriors retreated step by step, nervously looking at Carol and their General.

Only Veranke remained where she was, looking over her shoulder at Carol. To remind her of the power she held over her, she lifted the bracer with the transmitter. Caught between indecision and panic, Carol stopped, eyes darting between Veranke’s transmitter, Yon-rogg and the half-lit shape of Earth visible beyond the force field.

Without warning, Veranke pulled her blaster and fired. Even the warriors startled. All except Yon-rogg, who sagged to the floor, blue blood gushing out of a hole in his chest. 

Carol cried. “Yon!”

An uncontrolled blast exploded from her across the hangar, knocking everyone around them to the floor. She threw herself at his side, pressing her hand on the wound, fumbling after a quick aid injector that should be located on his belt. He grabbed her arm, golden eyes locked on hers a final moment before they closed.

Behind her, Veranke was getting back on her feet along with everyone else. Carol finally found the quick aid, plunging it into his throat artery.

“Throw him into space,” Veranke said with utter disregard.

“No!” Carol trembled. It felt like she was falling. She buried her face into Yon-rogg’s neck, desperately trying to gather her thoughts into something like a useful strategy. If he wasn’t the one sprawled and bleeding out on the floor, he would use logic. To find any and every weakness and save the mourning for later.

“Yon...” she said and pressed her forehead to his. “Please forgive me.” A tear spilled from her eye and landed on his ashen, unmoving face.

He was pulled from her grasp, unceremoniously dragged by his arms and disposed through the force field into dead, cold space. It was so completely undignified she wanted to scream.

Veranke’s voice echoed from behind. “Take the Captain to the bridge.”

Carol was dragged to her feet and tugged backwards but resisted for a moment, just enough to see the spot that was Yon-rogg’s body disappear from view. She was led by the arms by her ‘captors’ though they must know she could blow them all to bits any second.

It felt like she was corroding from the inside by a mix of regret, hatred and helplessness. It weighed her down with each step, forcing her escorts to lift her by the armpits at times when her legs wouldn’t carry. Her breath felt liquid. She wished she could cease to exist this moment. Could she make her heart stop by sheer will alone, and save everyone the suffering she would bring on them?

She was hardly aware of where they were leading her. Along the way she felt the unmistakable crush-and-relief of going through a series of jump points.

Reinforced doors whooshed open before her and she was suddenly looking out over the Vindicator’s bridge. The two warriors let go of her arms and she swayed a moment, deprived of the steady point. The large room was triangular shaped with pilot controls in front and various consoles and instruments spread out across tables in each direction, all facing the wide front shield of the vessel. A pit in the middle held even more instruments, but at one place the floor plating had been removed and parts of the ship’s inner workings removed to make room for something new. Something, and Carol gasped – familiar.

Inside something resembling a cage of metal bars, wires and connections, was Vorik, working fervently with what seemed like last adjustments. Fine tech tools were spread all around. It was the battery from the Collector’s museum. Modified to fit with the Vindicator’s technology, but undoubtedly the same machine.

Veranke stepped in front of her. “Admiring the view? I’ll give you a tour, but we’re short on time as it is.”

If Carol had ever claimed to hate anyone, ever, before, she’d been lying, because what she experienced now was the purest, most unrelenting wish to rip Veranke to shreds. Even that seemed too kind.

“Why did you shoot him?” Carol hissed, panting with effort to contain a blast that begged to be released. Her glow lit up the entire bridge, making the deck officers cast nervous glances.

Veranke told her subordinates to remain at their stations. Then she spoke lower, only to Carol, “You brought a Kree to my vessel, so I shot him. I don’t care if you two fucked or not.” 

“I will kill you.”

“I don’t care.” She pointed to the pit where Vorik was working, “Get down there. Vorik will set you up.”

Breathing hotly through her nose, Carol gritted her teeth and walked provocatively slowly to the edge, to finally jump down to where Vorik was working. For a moment, they paused to look at each other. He averted his eyes first, pointing to a spot where he wanted her to be; between two metal arcs fronting the whole contraption.

Vorik began pulling forward some sorts of gear that looked as if it was meant to fit on her arms.

“I have seen this before,” Carol said. “I could charge it with my hands then. Is this really necessary?”

He cleared his throat. “Well, yes and no. I modified it based on Mar-vell’s blueprints. The Collector didn’t understand it fully so…”

Carol started. “Mar-vell?”

Vorik paused his work for a moment to look at her. “Pallakor held many of her secrets, including this. Mar-vell wasn’t always peaceful.”

“But Mar-vell realized it was wrong. Why are  _ you _ doing this?”

Before Vorik could answer, Veranke interjected. “Cut the chatter, Vorik.”

Carol grimaced as the clasps tightened around her arms. One just above her elbow, one around her lower arm and wrist. She should be able to get them off without effort but somehow she felt unable to charge up. The metal was warming up, a low hum as it began to vibrate with brimming power.  _ Her _ power.

“I regret any discomfort,” Vorik excused himself nonchalantly, backing away and making his way to the edge, where Veranke offered a hand to pull him up. “My  _ sister _ here insisted we had to get it ready and it’s admittedly a little rough. It was meant to work with the Tesseract, and you’re the closest thing in existence to it, so...”

“Go to hell,” Carol panted. Virulent tendrils of fire moved through her, like the power of the core no longer belonged to her but threatened to burn her from the inside. Her vision blacked out as the pain suddenly spiked.

This is how I die, she thought, and what scared her more than the possibility itself, was how little it frightened her.


	17. Soren

The first time she regained consciousness, Soren opened her eyes and tried to move against the heavy restraints that held her hand and feet together with numbing pressure. She was in a transport, surrounded by Kree warriors. The nearest immediately crashed their fist against her head, and she blacked out again.

The memory of the hit lingered the next time she woke up. This time she kept her eyes closed and remained still despite the painful numbness in her limbs. Two loud-mouthed Kree were arguing over gaming losses, but another group had more interesting things to share.

“Did you know they blew up the whole thing?”

“The laboratory?”

“It was the Supremor’s orders.”

“I guess it’s just as well. We shouldn’t take any chances with this stuff.”

Eventually came the moment when she had to pretend to wake up. Someone freed her feet and she blinked against a sharp light. The holder of the light made a disgusted sound. 

“I can’t get over how creepy they look,” he commented. Judging from his tone he thought he was being funny.

Someone else, a woman, muttered, “Wait until after it’s been through questioning and you won’t eat for a week.”

Soren scrunched her eyes shut.

The Kree pushed her shoulder impatiently with his boot. “Get up, lizard.”

She rolled to her side and managed to stand up. Her head spun and ached and she swayed a little. She was not in a very dark place, she realized. The light had just been there because the Kree fancied a closer look at the prisoner before she was taken away. Probably with the same mix of fascination and disgust as when children watch insects they actually think are gross.

They led her through one hallway after another. The looks she received from the Kree they met along the way spanned from overt disgust to malice and anger. She tried to think of something else. She chose her daughter, held her love for her child like a protective shield.

The wound in her calf bit with each step, but it was a comforting pain, a reminder that it was not all for nothing. She wondered if Talos had gotten her message yet. She knew he would suffer terribly to hear of her fate, but his would not have been different if he had stayed behind instead.

Soren glanced at the Kree soldiers. She didn’t know if it was a good idea or not to talk to them, but it was worth an attempt. “I am not with Veranke, I am a scientist and I think I may have found a way to make a cure… Ow!” The female punched her in the ribs so hard she sagged to the floor, only to be roughly pulled to her feet again and pushed forward. She didn’t speak again.

They took her to a holding cell. The door slammed shut behind her and her restraints opened automatically. The lighting was sparse, emanating only from a narrow ledge where the wall met the ceiling. The cell had a bench of the same cold metal as the walls and floor, and what passed for a privy behind a low divider in a corner.

In that moment, her courage rendered. Her sore, bruised body and throbbing head overwhelmed her by aching with renewed force. An unbending, relentless will to live overrode her resignation to her fate. She made a deal with herself, that she would tell them anything except what she had hidden under her skin.

The moment she managed to settle in this new conviction, the door opened and she steeled herself for anything. Anything except what landed on the floor before the door whooshed shut again.

In her cell now lay a man – a Skrull no doubt – but large patches of his skin were charred and cracked so purple corium tissue showed. Other places were covered with blisters in different stages of bursting. The hand resting on his belly had nails missing, and two of the fingers were nothing but a purple mess. But what made her stomach turn was his ear. Or what did not remain of it. Just a lump of coagulated blood on the side of his head that was turned towards her.

It was a view of nightmares. Soren subconsciously backed up against the wall, hardly even breathing, unable to avert her eyes from the battered corpse.

Then the man let out a low, pained moan. The realization that he was still alive jolted her into motion.

She stepped to the privy and washed her hands. Then she took off her shirt, leaving her with only the sleeveless top she wore underneath. The shirt’s fabric was worn and brittle – and smelled like Talos she noted with regret – and she could easily rip it into pieces with the help of her teeth. She put them under the water until they were reasonably clean.

When she was unconscious she had been stripped of her belt and every lace and buckle that she could potentially use to harm herself or someone else. But it consequently also meant she had nothing in her arsenal to help, either. The wet, cool fabric would at least soothe some of the pain from his burns and blisters.

Kneeling beside him, her eyes flitted across his body, not knowing where to start so she applied a piece of cloth on his chest where his skin looked the worst. From this angle she could see that he was missing both ears. She balked. It was obvious why they had dumped him in here with her.

He hissed and gasped at the sensation of someone touching him. His eyelids fluttered, but he remained still. Soren continued to cover his injuries with the wet cloth. When she gingerly lifted the ruined hand to try to bandage the crushed fingers, he groaned and opened his eyes a sliver. Like hers, they were purple speckled with clear blue hues. She swallowed, trying to look at his eyes only. It was the only part of him that looked fully intact, probably because they wanted him to be able to see what they did to him. He looked quite young, she thought mournfully.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Jagun,” he said hoarsely.

She nodded and continued to work, gently washing away the blood and dirt, wetting the cloth over and over.

When she dried the bloodstains around the wounds where his ears had been, he looked so intently at her she stilled her motion.

“Forgive me,” he whispered.

“For what?”

“I told them everything.” He looked away, closing his eyes. She began washing him again. After a few moments, he added bitterly. “They continued anyway.”

“This isn’t your fault,” she said soothingly, desperately trying not to think of what this implied for her own future. “My name is Soren.”

Neither spoke again. She was too weak to lift him, one of his knees was ruined and moving hurt too much regardless, so he remained on the floor. The cot was as hard and cold as the floor regardless, so it made no difference. An undefined amount of time passed. Soren rested sitting beside Jagun, with her back against the wall. There was nothing to do but wait for the inevitable.

The Kree’s tactic to tenderize her worked. When the door opened, Soren curled up against the wall and stared at the floor, stiff from fear. Two pairs of boots entered the cell. Jagun was thankfully asleep or pretended to be so, so perhaps they believed he was dead, or they simply didn’t care. After a short argument on who would touch ‘the lizard’, a gloved hand grabbed her bare arm and yanked her to standing. When it released her, her knees buckled and she fell into a heap on the floor. She tried to order herself to move but her body wouldn’t obey.

“Scared, are you?” one of them snarled.

When she wouldn’t move, the two guards muttered something irritated and then grabbed one of her arms each, half dragging, half carrying her between them. She was taken to a room with no furniture save two pairs of restraints fastened to the floor with wires. The only light was one sharply lit spot over the restraints.

She instinctively resisted in the doorway but it was a useless struggle. They tossed her into the room like she weighed nothing and she curled up on the floor. There was a hiss as the wires to the restraints were pulled out. Cold metal closed around her wrists and ankles. They left and the door closed just as the wires began pulling her in like a squirming fish on a hook.

While she slid across the floor, Soren reminded herself of her promise. To hang on. She had to face this. The wires stopped pulling with a click. She was not plastered to the floor but they effectively prevented her from moving around. Trembling, she slowly straightened until she sat with her legs folded under her. Her hands clutched around each other. Fear made her skin prickle.

The sound of movement drew her attention to the darkness beyond the spotlight. She made the decision to say what she had to say rather than let them determine the questions.

“I’m not who you think I am,” she started out quivering, but surprised herself by how her voice grew steadier. “I came to Pallakor looking for a cure. I’m a scientist and a friend of Carol Danvers. She is the one who asked me to help her save the Kree on the colonies. And...” she hesitated. The person in the darkness stepped forward. The whites of their eyes glimmered menacingly against their deep blue skin. “I found the key to a cure,” she finished, breathing as hard as if she’d been running.

White teeth glistened as the interrogator smiled. They walked forward so they joined her in the light pool. She looked at the floor, couldn’t bear to see the amused malice that played over their face. The uninhibited cruelty of an ill-raised child who looked forward to pulling the first leg off an insect.

They crouched down. Soren recoiled and turned away her face while breathing fast through her nose. A cold metal point dug into the soft skin under her chin, guiding her head back to where it had been. She closed her eyes in protest.

“Look at me,” they ordered.

Her immediate instinct was to want this person to pity her, to be little and frail and maybe, just maybe that would be her salvation. At the very least in the form of a quick, merciful death.

The tip of the dagger pressed harder into her skin so she opened her eyes, looking into a broad, blue face with eyes so dark the pupil and iris melted together. They looked satisfied at getting this first concession from their victim.

“What is your name?”

“Soren,” she choked out, lifting her chin to escape the sharpness.

“I am Zen-tar,” they hummed, chuckling as they withdrew the dagger. “I look forward to getting to know you, Soren.”

Zen-tar rose and walked around her while eyeing her thoroughly. She looked rigidly forward.

“Are you feeling well, Soren?” they asked from behind her.

“Not even remotely,“ she replied, wishing she had her husband’s knack for coming up with sarcastic answers for superfluous questions. What would Talos have said? _ Never better, _ probably. The idea made her lip twitch.

“What are you thinking of now?” Zen-tar asked softly.

As if Talos whispered to her, Soren smiled, “The lacking room service.”

Zen-tar huffed a humored response and walked to stand in front of her again. “You’re a hard one to figure out. Do you think this is a game you can somehow win?”

She looked up at them, defiant. “I am made fully aware of my circumstance, something I’m sure you are responsible for. I have told you the truth about who I am. My intention, however hard that is for you to believe, was to help your people. If you refuse to believe that, nothing I can say or do will make a difference.” She snapped her mouth shut, wondering if she had provoked them with her outburst.

Before she could think further, Zan-tar struck, grabbing her throat with such force she was thrown backwards, hitting the floor with her shoulders and head, knocking the air out of her. They kneeled over her, pinning her with their grip, the restraints pulling painfully on her wrists. Their hand, broad and strong, squeezed harder around her throat. Panic rose in her as felt herself choking. She struggled but the restraints held her down. Zen-tar hissed, “I will hear the truth from you. Just as I did from the other who gave away your location while I crushed his fingers.”

Their grip loosened enough for Soren to draw breath.

“Who created the drocs?” they asked.

“The Kree,” she croaked. Their dagger reappeared, pressing against the base of her ear. She hyperventilated and closed her eyes, rambling, “The Kree created the virus and then killed them off, but Skrulls salvaged the viral DNA and brought it back to life. It was all in the logs on Pallakor.”

The edge pushed harder, then relented. Tears welled up and she couldn’t stop them. It infuriated her to be so affected. Zen-tar already played her emotions like strings on an instrument.

“Don’t be disappointed,” they said softly, wiping her face with the back of the hand that held the blade. “I have many more questions that need answers. And all the time I need to get them.”

The door opened. Zen-tar looked up, surprised. Soren could only watch from the corner of her eye as another blue-skinned Kree stepped into the cell.

“Admiral,” Zen-tar rose hastily and left Soren on her back, panting, humiliating tears still streaming uncontrollably from her eyes.

“I wish to talk to the prisoner alone,” the other said evenly. “I’ll give word if I need assistance. You may leave.”

Zen-tar gave Soren the look of a child who had been ordered to leave their favorite toy for someone else to play with, but left the room without protest. The door shut and left a pressing silence. Soren didn’t dare to move as much as a finger.

The Kree Admiral walked up to her, and from this angle Soren could see her properly. She was quite short, middle aged with graying hair and stout features. Despite being what Soren assumed was the highest ranking Kree onboard, she wore the same armored uniform like the other soldiers. Just like Talos, Soren thought ruefully. He would never back down from the fighting or accept boons because of his rank, either.

“I am Admiral On-Sar.” Her voice was stern but not outright threatening. “And I know your name is Soren. You claim to know how to cure the droc virus.”

Soren made a slight nod, her voice a weak croak through the fear that still paralyzed her. “I think I found the key parameter. But it will need a donor of a different species to make an immune system modification.”

On-Sar contemplated her with an even expression. “We have one hundred and twenty-four Kree currently suspended in cryo who are all infected. The Supreme Intelligence have given us two days to find a cure, or those people will be euthanized.”

“That’s cruel and unfair,” Soren said, well aware that she was likely slandering the Kree’s deity by voicing such an opinion.

“It’s necessary,” On-sar retorted coolly. “But the short time-frame means I have reason to try every available option. Including giving you the option to prove the truth of your words to me rather than Zen-tar.”

Behind the well manicured disinterest, Soren sensed real distress. There was something personal at stake here. She began thinking through the steps she would need to perform a reliable test based on her hypothesis. “I’ll need a laboratory. And… “ She paused but realized there was no other way to go about it. She took a deep breath. “Since a Kree can’t be a donor, I’d have to volunteer myself.”

She expected nothing but a stern ‘no’ to her suggestion. The Kree were notoriously meticulous when it came to racial purity.

“I will get you what you need,” On-sar said instead and walked towards the door, then stopped, and turned back. “Mention this to no one.”

The door opened and On-Sar gave orders to the soldiers outside, who swiftly came to remove the restraints and lead Soren back to her cell. When the door closed, Soren sagged down against the wall with her head on her knees and her arms wrapped around herself, shock and stress wearing off her in cold, shuddering waves.

A groan from Jagun renewed her focus. She rushed to him and supported him when he wanted to roll to his side. He grimaced against the pain but she understood; eventually, he had to change position.

“Still got your ears, I see,” he huffed out.

Soren swallowed against a dry throat. She couldn’t risk telling him what surpassed. Instead, she said, and attempted to sound courageous as Talos would have, “I guess mine are uglier than yours, so perhaps Zen-tar thought it crueler to let me keep them.”

Jagun smiled crookedly.

The door opened and they both startled. A sour faced soldier stepped in and dropped a tray of food on the floor so the contents clattered away in every direction. Soren didn’t move until they were gone and the door closed. Then she hurriedly gathered all the pieces of the meal. All was grain based; some kind of porridge and flat breads. The cup of water had spilled out but though she resented the taste of circulated water, it was drinkable, only not recommended for longer periods of time. She refilled the cup and came to Jagun’s side with it, helping him into half-sitting position so he could drink.

After the first mouthful, he paused and looked seriously at her. “You do realize that when they are done with us, we will be executed.”

She ignored him. “Drink. Burns make you dehydrate faster.”

He shook his head. “I’ll eat and drink when you tell me why you seem to believe we stand a chance.”

Soren set the cup down and looked away, picking up one of the breads. “What makes you think I have any more hope than you do?”

He shook his head, speaking gravelly, “You’re clearly not a soldier. You probably have no training to resist interrogation or torture. You are scared but you don’t really think you’re gonna die here.”

It was all true, she realized to her own surprise. She could not accept the idea of herself dying here any more than she could accept the thought of Talos doing so. “Perhaps I’m just naive,” she suggested and reached the cup out to him but he bit his mouth shut. She sighed. “My mate is General Talos. He will not abandon me here.”

She thought about it and made the call that it was worth the risk of him telling the Kree. The only implication for her might be them considering her a slightly more valuable prisoner.

“Talos, hm?” Jagun raised his brow and chuckled, studying her with newfound interest. “You must be seriously out of luck then to end up here. Here I thought you were on Veranke’s lab crew.”

“Well I’m not,” Soren muttered, reluctant to say anything more. “Now, I told why I don’t think we’re totally screwed. Will you eat?”

“Do you know Captain Danvers then?”

“I do,” she said cautiously while making him drink some more.

Coughing a little, he muttered. “We both have her to thank for ending up here. I asked her to kill me after I was captured.”

“How did you get captured?” She bit off a corner of a bread.

He grunted, laying back on the floor with a grimace. “My injector malfunctioned, or was improperly dosed. Not sure. I didn’t die when I was supposed to.”

Soren gasped. “That’s horrible.” Jagun nodded sincerely. She clarified, “No, I think it’s horrible that you were meant to die.”

Jagun looked at the ceiling. “It’s preferable to this.”

“But no one should be asked by their leader to do something like that.”

His voice took a sarcastic tone, “Aren’t you sweet. Protected wife of the benevolent General Talos.”

Soren bristled. “There is nothing wrong with being a benevolent leader. Now, you and I had a deal so eat your food and don’t insult me again.”

Neither said anything more for the rest of the meal.

They had no means to tell the time so it was anyone’s guess how long it took before the door opened again. This time, Soren stood up but the two Kree that entered the cell just took Jagun with them, dragging him by his arms while he gritted his teeth, unwilling to give them the satisfaction of showing them how much pain he was in. Soren wondered if she’d see him again, or if he would be disposed of as he no longer served a purpose. She suddenly felt very lonely. Having someone to care for had made her feel less helpless. Perhaps that was something the Kree realized, too.

Shortly after, On-sar entered her cell, accompanied by a short, blue-skinned soldier. On-sar ordered the door shut behind them.

“I suspect we do not have much time, so we must be efficient,” On-sar declared rigidly, then looked at the soldier. “This is Ta-rinn. She is personally responsible for one of the infected soldiers in our care. She will help you.”

Ta-rinn looked tight-bitten, even nervous. It dawned on Soren what On-sar intended. Soren shook her head. “I won’t shift into someone who doesn’t want to.” The two Kree exchanged puzzled looks.

“It was my idea.” Ta-rinn stepped forward. “I volunteered.”

Soren’s head was brimming with questions. First of all, why the need for discretion if On-sar was the commander of this ship? Why not just give the order? She was not in a position to ask such questions, however.

Soren looked seriously at Ta-rinn. “I will see things, memories. Even things you might not want me to.”

“Just do it,” Ta-rinn swallowed. “There’s no other way if we’re gonna have a chance to save him.”

A personal stake here, too, it seemed, Soren thought. Talos sometimes complained about her ‘particularities’ when it came to shifting. That’s why she had developed a preference to turn into animals or beings of lower intellect. It felt less intrusive, though it by principle was the same thing. Nonconsensual shifting made Soren feel like a thief.

Focusing on Ta-rinn was easy. The soldier bravely met her gaze, her heart pounding with fear, anxiousness, arousal at being in league with someone like On-sar, someone she deeply respected. And something more. Family? No, not hers. The soldier. Att-lass. His name was loud in Ta-rinn’s memory, as were the feelings she harbored for him.

Soren drew in a loud gasp as she settled in the body, overwhelmed by the impressions and sensations that came with the shift. Ta-rinn was shorter but broader than her, so her clothes were both too large and too small at the same time. She looked at the two Kree who were watching her with total fascination. No wonder, she thought. They had probably never seen a Skrull shift as anything but a result of violence or desperation. A consensual shift was something entirely different. There was no escaping the intimacy of it.

Without being prompted to do so, Ta-rinn got out of her uniform and helped Soren put it on instead.

“We go straight to the quarantine section, ” On-sar informed her while Ta-rinn closed clasps and zippers and Soren clumsily tried to help. But her movements were jerky from nervousness and Ta-rinn irritably pushed her hands away. “You get what you need and then we return.”

They left the cell together, leaving Ta-rinn behind. Soren forced herself to breathe normally. She recognized the guards at the end of the corridor, but now they greeted her with respectful nods and saluted On-sar, who said, “No one is to enter the cell with the Skrull scientist. Leave her in complete isolation until I return.”

They continued through halls and corridors and Soren walked half a step behind On-sar. From Ta-rinn’s memories, she knew where they were going but it still felt safer to let On-sar take the lead, attempting to make herself less visible. It was absurd. She had always known that she was not built for spying but here she was, infiltrating a Kree cruiser at the initiative on none less than its Admiral herself.

Suddenly, On-sar’s comm came live. She sighed irritably and opened it. “Yes?”

“ _ The Accuser has arrived. He demands that you meet him. They are waiting for you in hangar five.” _

On-sar looked concerned at Soren. “Remain with me. Say nothing,” she ordered. Soren nodded stiffly.

They took another direction that led them to a broad, open hallway hallway with lively traffic, lined with large openings into hangars reaching across the starboard side of the Nemesis. On-sar led them through one of the openings. Hangar five was empty save for one shuttle and two waiting Kree. One blue-skinned and remarkably tall, wearing a hood and carrying the Accuser signature hammer. The other was a warrior with brown skin and sharply contrasting blue eyes. He looked familiar but Soren couldn’t determine if it was her memories, or Ta-rinn’s.

On-sar seemed annoyed. “Ronan,” she said with measured politeness. “Your visit to the Nemesis is unexpected. Was your mission to Knowhere not a success?”

The Accuser bowed his head slightly, but was otherwise expressionless. “The Tivan group is cooperating with us to root out the Skrull cells hiding in the city. In exchange for our support, they provided us with valuable and urgent information. It would seem the Skrulls have stolen an energy prototype with the potential to arm a powerful weapon.”

Soren felt giddy. She thought of Tank and her friends and prayed they had nothing to do with this. She swallowed hard, reminding herself that no one would pay the least bit of attention to her. Just another Kree soldier. Then she saw the blue eyed warrior look at her intently, like he recognized her. She struggled to find anything useful in Ta-rinn’s recent memories. On-sar must have realized what was going on, because the she swiftly filled in,

“Commander Yon-rogg left acting lieutenant Ta-rinn under my command.”

“Commander Yon-rogg has reportedly  _ defected _ ,” Ronan returned coldly. “But he is not the reason I have come here. You have a Skrull prisoner, a female scientist, that I am to take charge of, and bring to Hala for public execution.”

Soren couldn’t breathe. The warrior searched her face with his icy gaze, no doubt noting her distress. She still couldn’t figure out who he was.

On-sar was perplexed. “Yon-rogg has defected?”

The Accuser’s response was unaffected in a way Soren could only interpret as sarcasm. “A shock to each and everyone of us, I’m sure.” His purple gaze fell on Soren. “However no shadow falls on his former team. The Commander’s defection is due to an irredeemable flaw in character, not outside influence.” As soon as he looked away, she let out the breath she’d been holding.

The warrior stepped forward. “I will fetch the prisoner.”

On-sar held up her hand, stalling him. “No need, Korath. We are not yet done questioning her,” she said with convincing calm that impressed Soren.

The Accuser raised his voice an increment. “No more questioning is needed. The Supremor...”

“I will commune myself with the Supreme Intelligence,” On-sar cut him off with a sharp tone. “I’m sure they will see the value of further investigation.”

Ronan’s eyes narrowed and Korath tensed visibly.

“I’m sorry you have to leave with unfinished business,” On-sar went on calmly. For several moments, no one moved, the two leaders staring each other down. In the end, Ronan took a step back.

“The Silver Aster will remain here while I await your decision,” he said, the words heavy with implied threat.

“We are grateful for the extra protection,” On-sar returned, completely deadpan.

The two averted their gazes at the exact same time, Ronan turning to the shuttle he and Korath had arrived in, On-sar and Soren returning to their path towards the infirmary. Soren didn’t dare to speak a word about what had just surpassed. She looked rigidly ahead, following the shape of On-sar’s back.

“Quarantine is at the back,” On-sar said between her teeth when they stepped through the doors to medbay.

“I know,” Soren whispered. These memories were recent and clear. She tentatively took the lead through the hallways and doors, opened the DNA locked isolation wall to quarantine and let both of them inside.

The room was white and clean. She looked around. All laboratory equipment she might need was here. There was only one catch.

“I’ll need to shift to test for immunity,” she said, and looked tentatively at On-sar who was waiting with her arms crossed, a suspicious scowl forming. “And I can’t shift back unless I see Ta-rinn in front of me.”

“Then prepare what you can and we’ll bring it back to your cell,” On-sar said.

Soren approached the med pod where Att-lass was. Ta-rinn’s affection for the man welled up and overwhelmed her for a moment, before Soren realized that she too recognized him. He had been on Carol’s former team. She stood frozen for a moment, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. If Yon-rogg had indeed defected, could that mean..?

“Is staring at him part of the procedure?” On-sar admonished, jerking Soren back to the present.

Soren quickly gathered what she needed. The laboratory equipment in the room was familiar in Ta-rinn’s memory and she worked fast, taking blood and stem cell samples to test for compatibility. Then she separated the blood, checked virus levels and concluded that a shot of blood plasma should be enough to test her own body’s strength against it. She reckoned it was about a fifty-fifty chance of success. But then there was the matter of Att-lass’s body accepting the immune system modification. She stalled and forced herself to think clearly, though her thoughts were constantly drawn to the Accuser and the order that had been given to end her life as a trophy for the Empire. Her hands shook when she put the equipment she needed into a case.

There was no doubt in her mind that her life hung in the same balance as Att-lass’s.

“I’m done,” she said and turned around, showing the case she carried. “It’s all here.”

They were not interrupted on their walk back to the cells. Ta-rinn had, just as On-sar ordered, not been disturbed during the time they had been away. Soren took off the uniform and changed back to her true self. The confines of the cell were strangely comforting to return to. As if she, like the orcaz she had inhabited previously, was a little burrow animal who took comfort in dark, cramped places where she could hide from the gazes of looming predators.

She set the case on the bunk and opened it, taking up the syringe she had prepared. She pressed the needle to her skin, hesitating a moment. Fifty-fifty, she reminded herself. Those were better odds than when she arrived here. She pushed it.

“It’ll take awhile,” she said to them. “If I get through the fever we’ll know. Ta-rinn knows enough about the rest to assist me, going forward.” 

Ta-rinn nodded in acknowledgment with slight surprise on her face, and clarified, “She means to make a stem cell mod via a synthetic viral carrier.”

On-sar nodded. “Check her on an hourly basis. Inform me as soon as there’s a development.” The Admiral turned towards the door.

Soren finally gathered enough courage to ask, “Is Jagun alive?”

“Who?”

Her voice lost a little of its purchase. “The other Skrull.”

On-sar turned back towards Soren, looking puzzled. “You care for him?”

“I would care for anyone who was put through what he has been,” Soren retorted with more heat than she intended.

On-sar regarded her silently for a few moments. “I can’t make a promise to release you. Not if the Supreme Intelligence has their eye on you. But if you are correct and you save the life of my son, I will ensure his release. You have my word.”

It was perhaps more than she should have hoped for, but Soren still felt a sting of betrayal. She looked away to hide the water filling her eyes. “Okay,” she whispered.

They left and she was once again alone. She lay down on the bunk, closed her eyes and thought about her daughter. Moved through the times they’d shared and chiseled out every little detail in her mind until she felt like she could almost touch the memories. To feel the soft texture of her baby when she was first helped out of the wet membranes inside the eggshell. The egg had been golden yellow with dark purple speckles. She recalled the look on Talos’s face when they held Indes between them for the first time. Soren cried silently at the memory but this time it was tears of joy and gratefulness.

The hours came and went and Ta-rinn checked on her as she had said she would. Soren felt no symptoms and began to wonder if it hadn’t worked the way she intended. But when Ta-rinn finally made a blood test and came back with the result, the young Kree woman looked excited.

“Soren; it’s working, You’re immune to it.”

Soren just nodded listlessly. “You know what to do then?”

Ta-rinn stalled, seeing her expression. She looked down. “I never thought I’d say this to a Skrull. But I wish I had some way to help you.” She looked seriously at Soren with glazed eyes. “I really do.”

“You love him,” Soren said softly, feeling a lump in her own throat, too.

“Yes!” Ta-rinn sniffed out. “I never even thought I’d make it to Starforce. But he, oh gods, he was so kind. No one was ever kind to me before. And he’s a big dummy because despite that it took so long for him to… you know… get it.” She laughed, a deep blue flush rising to her face.

It was adorable. Soren smiled while a tear trickled down her cheek. Maybe, she thought, regardless of what happens to me, what is happening  _ here _ , between us, is what really mattered. That their shared tears and smiles was the seed to something bigger, further away in the future.

When they had finished, they said goodbye for the first time before Ta-rinn left.

Soren didn’t hear anything about how things had gone before her door opened, and the warrior with the ice blue gaze stepped into her cell. Korath. Dread filled her. She instinctively recoiled, crawling backwards on the bunk until she was pressed against the back wall.

Two guards followed him, pulled her upright and cuffed her, dragging her between them. Korath followed silently. It felt like death itself loomed over her. An accurate feeling, considering that she was being taken to her execution. To be paraded like the villain and shot dead in front of the masses. If she had anything in her stomach she would vomit, but instead all she felt was a contracting, cramping ache. Finally, the walk was over and she was tossed on the floor. Being unable to brace herself with her hands, she twisted her torso so shoulder took most of the impact.

She remained still, panting with her eyes closed for a few moments. Then someone lifted her chin up and she opened her eyes, looking into the face of Ronan. Her entire body clenched.

“Your luck has turned, Skrull,” he said low, sending chills across her. “The Supreme Intelligence means to exchange you for one of our own.”

“One of… your own?” she gasped, her voice trembling.

He let go of her, rose and walked forward on what she realized was a ship. A low rumble told her they were firing up the engines.

Despite the intense fear that still clung to her every nerve ending, hope suddenly surged through her.


	18. Yon-rogg

The craft set down on the sandy, pine covered ridge above the lake. He got out, closely followed by Minn-erva. There was the click-shove-click sound of her rifle folding up and getting ready. Yon-rogg drew his pistol. Mar-vell had surprised him with her flight skills but in the end, she was no match to their superiority. 

They carefully navigated through the terrain until the smoking wreckage emerged. He turned around, lifting a hand to instruct Minn-erva to stay behind to cover his back. She nodded in affirmation.

A gust of wind made smoke and dust swirl up, surrounding the scene in a dream-like haze. He moved closer to the metal carcass, hearing voices speaking in a Terran language. Desperate, shaken. Were there two of them? He swore. Must be a pilot.

Her name was Carol, he suddenly knew. She has an infuriating laugh that made him feel as if he is the butt of a joke he doesn’t understand. She wakes up early as hell and likes to run in the mornings. Fast at first, so her lungs burn before she slows to a jog. She takes long showers. She snores when she sleeps on her stomach. She likes sugary drinks. She can’t stop grinning when they practice, except when he pisses her off. He loves to piss her off, but would never admit it. She’s a better fighter when she’s angry, but he would never admit that, either.

She makes him want to lose control. So he loses it.

He looked at her. She looked at him.

His own self suddenly stepped in front of him, pressing a pistol against his chest. 

“Too late, traitor,” they said.

A blast. Then silence. 

***

"Commander."

His thoughts spun impossibly fast but his body felt numb. Someone grabbed and shook him. 

"Yon-rogg!"

Minn-erva? He just about managed to open his eyes a sliver. She was here, in front of him. They floated through cold emptiness. His eyes wouldn’t focus properly, so she was just a hazy form before him. Something hurt in his chest. Despite the protection of his uniform, he couldn’t breathe. 

"Listen. You have twenty seconds to activate your beacon. Then it’s over."

Her voice was urgent, worried. He still couldn’t move. Or talk.

She took his right arm. He heard a distant ‘beacon activated’. He wanted to ask her so many things, but he was frozen in a body that should be dead but somehow wasn’t. Just before he passed out again, he managed to get her into focus and realized that she wasn’t wearing a mask.

***

He was running beside Vers, watching the skyline of Hala change from blue to gold. They were connected by a transfusion tube, moving blood between them. But the color was wrong. It was red. 

They were ambushed by Skrulls. Vers changed into a Skrull too, laughed and blasted him. 

He threw himself to the ground and suddenly the Skrulls were gone. He wasn’t on Hala anymore, but Caal, standing beneath the towering buildings of Irrid. The city he had failed to save. Around him, people screamed and as he looked up as the sky filled up with Accuser missiles. There was nowhere to run. But as they hit the surface, instead of incinerating him, the ground opened beneath his feet.

He hit the floor hard in the Supreme Intelligence’s simulation. The Supremor stood above him, holding the implant between its thumb and index finger. It dug into his cramping body until it finally became limp. He watched his dying body from afar while he himself drifted away, carried by a violent current, spinning him downwards into a dense, compact darkness.

He forgot how he had ended up here. Or where he was going. He only felt relief, a firm understanding that it – whatever it was – was over. From somewhere came the echo of agitated voices. His body called to him, uncompromising in its determination to remain alive, reeling him back into a flickering, desperate existence.

He roused slowly. His eyes stung from the low light that for a moment seemed unbearably bright. The smallest attempt to move resulted in a sharp, stinging pain. Like someone had put a nail through his chest. But he drew breath.

There was solid metal around his wrists and ankles, distinctly uncomfortable compared to the softness the rest of his body was wrapped in. As his vision began to clear up, the first thing that caught his attention was a blue tube reaching from a port at the bend of his arm, upwards to a flat, empty bag.

Yon-rogg tried to lift his head but the action was too painful, so he let it fall back. As expected, his voice didn’t carry, but he managed to croak out, hoping someone was here to answer, “Where am I?”

No reply came. Recent events replayed in his mind. The Skrull, Veranke. The helpless look on Carol’s face. The blaster shot that should have ended his life.

Glancing downwards, he tried to assess the state of his body. He was dressed in plain, gray clothing. The shirt was open, showing a white bandage that covered his chest from his collarbones to his stomach. Whatever had been done to him, it had – obviously – saved his life, but he still felt utterly mangled, like he had been cut open and clamped back together again.

A person emerged at his side. Yon-rogg looked up into an oval face with large expressive eyes and brown skin. Her hair was black and cut medium short. She took hold of the port in his arm and removed the tube with a swift jerk. 

“Where am I? What have you done to me?” he tried again. 

She just frowned at him. Something about her was vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place it. She took up a syringe and looked at it against the light, then brought it down to the port in his arm. He jerked. She gave him a stern look.

“It’s just antibiotics. You have no immunity to anything here. Lie still.”

There was nothing even remotely reassuring about the way she said it, but he could only watch helplessly as she pushed the contents into his bloodstream. His mind frantically tried to lay the puzzle that would explain his circumstance. Finally, he remembered where he’d seen her; she was the woman in the photo on Carol’s wall.

“You’re Maria,” he whispered. “Carol’s friend.”

She looked surprised. “She spoke of me?”

He nodded. 

Maria looked down, removing the syringe from the port, more gently than she had the transfusion tube. “Well, you’re lucky they had some of that blue blood.”

Yon-rogg’s chest tightened. “That was..?”

“Carol’s. Deep frozen. Saved for emergencies.”

His head spun a lapse. He blinked, feeling as if the bed was rocking. “What did you...” Then the world blacked out again.

Next time he woke up, he was alone. The room he was in was small with no windows or viewports. Roof, floor and walls were all made of concrete. A single light armature illuminated it in cold, uncomfortable light. The bed he was in felt solid, like it was bolted to the floor. Eventually, the door, a simple hinged thing, opened. A tall man, Terran by the looks of his clothes and the primitive handgun at his side, entered.

“Look at who’s awake.” The man’s speech was broad and confident like he was giving a lecture. “I sure did not think we’d see you around here for some time, Commander Yon-rogg.”

Terran came closer so Yon-rogg didn’t have to hold his head up to see him. “Who are you?”

“Fury. Nick Fury. Carol might have mentioned me.”

“She hasn’t.”

The man’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? You could say I’m her boss.” 

Keep telling yourself that, Yon-rogg thought. If not even he had been able to keep her in line with the inhibitor intact, what chances did this pitiful ground-dweller have? Better play along, regardless. At least he might be able to get some useful information. “Where am I?”

“Earth. C53 according to you.”

“How did I get here?”

The door opened again and Yon-rogg tensed at the sight of green skin and pointed ears. Fury looked up and grinned. “Well, well, speak of the devil!”

Talos sounded confused. “The devil?”

The mirth left Fury’s voice. “It’s… never mind. Anything new on Veranke?”

“Not yet, but the galaxy is a big place. Mav and his team have made some progress on your behalf. He wanted you to look at something.” Talos gave Yon-rogg a swift glance.

“Okay,” Fury said, grabbing the Skrull’s shoulder in what seemed like a friendly gesture, and added, lower, “And how is..?”

Talos’s voice was tight. “Alive. That’s all they would tell me.”

The Terran patted his shoulder in a reassuring manner. “That’s a start. It will work, my friend. I’ll go see what Mav has found for us.” 

Fury left the room. Talos smiled wryly, took a step forward and gave the restraint on one of his ankles a tap. “So. The tables are turned.”

“What have you done with Carol?” Yon-rogg bit back, tugging at his restraints. The attempt only resulted in pain. He lay back, grimacing. “You may have a bunch of backward Terrans fooled, Skrull, but I know the truth.”

“Humans,” Talos replied calmly. “That's what they call themselves. And they are not as backward as you think. This place is theirs. We are both visitors here. They saved you, because I asked them to.”

Well, that certainly explained the state of his body, Yon-rogg thought bitterly. Terran medical technology was nothing compared to the Kree’s. “Did you come to chastise me on my manners, or to find out how much I know of your scheme? Why keep me alive?”

“I need you for a prisoner exchange.”

Yon-rogg snorted. “I make a decent commodity I suppose.”

“Also you are the only person who knows what happened. With Carol and Veranke.”

He could have laughed at the attempted deception. “Are you claiming that you don’t?”

“Well, I do now.” Talos said meaningly, lip twitching. “We didn’t know if you would make it. I took certain… liberties.”

“Liberties?” Yon-rogg growled.

Talos shrugged. “Let’s call it even. I borrowed something from you, and saved your life in return.”

He had to look away. The idea of the things his enemy might have seen made him feel sick. And afraid; that they would find out what Carol meant to him and exploit his weakness. “Get to the point, Skrull.”

“Of course,” Talos cleared his throat, speaking with mock formality. “I’ll stop wasting your valuable time. A certain Admiral On-Sar wants to talk to you. To verify your identity.”

Yon-rogg scoffed. “And how does she plan to do that?”

Talos already brought up the interface on his wrist comm. Not as advanced as the ones Starforce used – there was no holo feed – but it was just as well, as he was cuffed to a bed. He did not want the indignation of appearing like this before the woman who was technically still his peer.

On-sar was as terse as one would expect. “ _ Yes? Do you have the Commander?” _

“Admiral. To the point as always,” Talos greeted cordially, then nodded towards Yon-rogg to speak.

He stated his name, rank and status. “Commander Yon-rogg, Kree Starforce. I’ve been severely wounded by and am now held prisoner by Skrulls.”

“ _ LPW-08-XT75 _ .”

He sighed. “XIC08-ECA5. These codes are outdated.”

_ “Good, second question; Upper Hala, northern quadrant, section 701 _ .”

“Basic training, recruits’ housing.” The block where he had lived, specifically.

_ “You were in an accident in your first year of training, what happened _ ?”

“I went through the ice.”

“ _ That will suffice. We will give word when we are ready to make the exchange _ .”

The connection snapped shut. Yon-rogg was bitterly reminded that at the moment he was just a liability, one who had let himself be caught alive. If the Empire had any alternative to an exchange, they would order him assassinated to keep his knowledge from falling into enemy hands. 

Talos commented, “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’re thrilled.” 

Something arrogant and reckless ignited in Yon-rogg as the Skrull made a move to leave.

“It’s Soren, right? I know. I saw you. Heard you too, talking to Carol.”

Talos kept his back turned to him. He could see the Skrull tense and relax his shoulders. “So the Kree obviously don’t put complete idiots in command. Anything else?”

“She’s your wife, isn’t she?”

“She is,” the other said quietly. 

“If she’s had part in the attack...” 

Talos cut him off with a snarl. “My mistake. Apparently they do put idiots in command. Get some rest. I’d prefer if you walked by yourself. It would look better.”

His captor slammed the door shut behind him.

Yon-rogg let out a slow breath, forcing himself to focus. He shouldn’t let his emotions have the better of him. The colossal irony of his situation was palpable, as was his anger and resentment over what the Skrulls had done. How they had deceived Carol so completely only to turn on her, on her homeworld, at the last moment.

A small voice at the back of his mind asked him if it was fair for him to be so upset over the latter. He had been the one to call in the Accusers when her shift in loyalty had gone from suspicion to an indisputable fact. He had changed, he admitted, the moment he saw the bombardment of Caal. The view of that planet, the family they had failed to protect from the drocs and the hundreds, perhaps thousands, killed in the indiscriminate bombings, still haunted him. 

Soon, as the stress began to wear off, his body claimed the rest it needed for it to heal. Not even the dull ache in his chest could keep him from sleep.

When he woke up, something warm and heavy moved with his chest as he breathed. He lifted his head and looked into a pair of yellow eyes with narrow slits for pupils. The creature’s whiskers twitched just before it yawned. 

He quickly lay his head back with his heart hammering, struggling to remain still as the flerken stretched, gently clawing on the bandage. At least his chest hurt less when he breathed now.

He glanced carefully at the creature. “Goose, right? I guess you think you have a score to settle.”

Goose blinked their round eyes once, looking intently at him, then licked their paw and settled back.

After a while, someone entered, closing the door that had apparently been left open. Slowly, the tapping of feet from a small person approached.

“Goose!” a girl admonished with a harsh whisper. “How did you get in here?”

Then she realized that Yon-rogg was awake, and stopped short where she had reached her arms over him to pick up the flerken. Her mouth fell open and a black curl fell into her face.

“I’m sorry. Someone must have forgotten the door,” she said while looking wide-eyed at him. She was the girl from the picture Carol had shown him.

“Be careful with that.” He nodded to the flerken. 

“It’s ok, Goose and I are friends.” Monica tried to grab Goose but the flerken hissed and the girl jumped back, looking between the creature and Yon-rogg with puzzlement. “Okay..? Seems she’s guarding you or something.”

He made an attempt to shift his body and the flerken only adjusted with him. “Why would she do that?”

“It’s like she just knows things.” The girl eyed him curiously. “You know. Carol never told me anything about when she was away. Only that her name was Vers and that she didn’t remember who she really was.”

Yon-rogg had spent enough time with children to know when one was begging him for a story. It could do no harm, he supposed. He tried to adjust himself so he could look more properly at her. She noticed and lifted a finger.

“Wait. I’ll raise the backrest.” She skittered to the head of the bed and found something underneath. A buzzing sound came at the same time the mattress moved so that he was half-sitting instead of lying flat. Goose slid down a little and opted to curl up in his lap instead.

“So you want to hear about Carol when she was on Hala?”

Monica nodded eagerly. “And spaceships please.”

He hesitated. “How they work? I don’t know all the specifics.”

She beamed, sitting down on a stool beside the bed. Yon-rogg tried to forget the humiliating fact that his hands and feet were cuffed and he had a flerken on his lap.

“Vers – Carol, I mean – was obsessed with ships. And flying. There are three different engine types. One is atmospheric flight. That’s what you do here on C53. Then there’s vacuum drift. And finally the jump point network.”

“So there’s no light-speed travel in space?” the girl said surprised.

_ No, because I shot the one person who was on their way to crack the problem of it _ . “Technically the jump points are, but we did not create them. It’s an ancient travel system, older than the Kree Empire even.”

His audience’s excitement grew incrementally with each bit of information. “What is the fastest ship then? And the biggest?”

“The biggest are the Accuser warships. But the downside is; they’re slow.”

“Yeah, I guess that holds true no matter where you’re from,” she stated casually. “If you wanna go fast, you have to go small.”

“That’s right. The Aegis and the Helion, the ships that we use in Kree Starforce, are among the fastest in our fleet.”

“What does Starforce do?”

He paused, finding himself unable to summon the usual conviction. “It’s a unit of highly skilled warriors, each with their own specialization. For special missions.”

“Like special operations?” the girl said.

“Yes. Every mission is unique.”

“And that’s how you kidnapped Carol.” The bluntness startled him, but he realized there was nothing untrue about what she said. Still, he felt there were extenuating circumstances that needed mentioning.

“I  _ retrieved _ her, yes. She would have died otherwise.”

Monica became solemn and quiet as she contemplated this. “Everyone said she was dead. But mom would never accept it. When I was smaller she would make up stories about where Carol was. Then as I got older I understood that she would perhaps never come back. But I never thought she was dead. Nothing could kill her.”

He smiled and nodded. “I agree. Though she is good at finding trouble.”

“Obviously.” The girl pointed at him, crinkled her nose and grinned.

“Who’s your father then?”

Her mood visibly fell. She shrugged, attempting to seem unaffected. “I know his name but I never met him. He and mom was gonna marry but he was killed in some stupid invasion abroad.”

“My mother was killed in battle, too,” he said before he could stop himself. “I was five.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” They were sincere words, by knowing the pain she spoke of. 

It dawned on him then with piercing clarity. To her, he was as much the villain as the raiding party that fell upon the outpost where his mother had been stationed.

He wanted to contain the sudden guilt. These circumstances were true for everyone in a war. It did not set him apart. “She died honorably. I am very proud of her. You should be proud of your father, too.”

“Why? It was stupid. A stupid war,” the girl scoffed but he heard the fragility in her voice.

He shook his head. He couldn’t accept that she thought her father’s death pointless anymore than to see himself as a villain in her story. “It doesn’t matter. They wanted to protect us. They died believing they did. We owe them our respect for that. And our gratitude.”

Before he could see the effect his words had on the girl, the door flung up and Maria walked in with anger in her step.

Monica bolted up. “Mom...”

“Monica – out,” Maria said in the way only a mother can. “Who let you in here?”

“Goose,” she attempted with a placating smile. “She won’t leave.”

Maria looked at the orange creature, her brow furrowing. “Goose,” she said sternly, walking to the bed without meeting Yon-rogg’s eyes once. She bent down so her eyes were level with the flerken’s. The creature made a low, snarling sound. Maria was unfazed. “Okay, Goose. You’ve made your point. Time to go. Dinner’s waiting.”

Yon-rogg tried not to imagine what the Terrans gave a flerken for dinner. The creature rose to its feet and arched its back, clawed a little more on his clothes and bandage, then jumped down.

Maria lay her arm around Monica’s shoulders, turning once to give Yon-rogg a thoughtful look. He met her gaze with one thing on his mind – was she a Skrull or the real Maria? No Skrull would talk to a flerken the way she just did though, he was certain of that.

“Wait,” he said, his mind made up. “I need to talk to you.”

Maria froze but Monica spun around, eager to hear what he had to say. Her mother took her shoulders and looked seriously at her. “Monica, wait outside.”

“But mom..!” the child wined.

“I mean it. You're not even supposed to be on this floor; we talked about this when we came here.”

Monica groaned impatiently. “I told you! I was looking for Goose.”

“I know. And you found her. Now go outside and wait. I’ll be there in a moment when I’ve heard what this space jock has to say.” Maria gave her daughter a gentle but firm push towards the door. 

The girl turned once to give Yon-rogg an apologetic smile. “I hope we can talk some other time.”

“Me too,” he nodded back.

When she had left, Maria crossed her arms over her chest and looked so much like Carol for a moment Yon-rogg almost laughed. But this was not the time for it.

“The Skrulls have some form of leverage on Carol, but unfortunately I don’t know any details,” he said hurriedly, unsure how much time he had. “Whatever Talos told you, you can’t trust it. They have forced her cooperation, but I don’t know for what purpose.”

She gave him a tired look. “Well thanks for your consideration, but we’ve got things covered. I just wanna know where Carol is and unless you can tell me that, there’s nothing I need from you.”

“You are not listening.” He tugged violently at the restraints but they held firm. “You have no idea what you are dealing with here. Do you have any clue how far down the food chain this planet of yours is? How vulnerable you are?”

These Terrans’ ignorance made him angry, he realized, because it would be their undoing. If they were foolish enough to let themselves be overrun and infiltrated by Skrulls, not even his influence could protect them from the Accusers.

Maria scoffed, hinting at him being cuffed to a bed. “Look who’s talking.”

Yon-rogg took a heated breath. “I can help you.”

“We don’t want your ‘help’.”

He fell back against the mattress. “I noticed.”

“Good.”

She left. He realized he was thirsty and hungry, and had to visit a bathroom soon or his current indignation would be multiplied by dozens. It seemed his host had anticipated this because shortly after, two armed Skrulls entered. One of them pointed at him with her gun while the other moved to unshackle him.

“Get moving,” the armed one said. She did not make the rookie mistake of averting her aim while nodding at the door. He assessed her to determine his chances of escape. She was short but looked strong. He was weak and still healing. He would not win.

Outside the room was a corridor of matte, gray concrete. Here and there were Terran soldiers, clad in some form of camouflage, armored vests and helmets. He had counted to eighty four steps, when they walked him through a double reinforced door. As it closed, he heard the sound of an automated lock engaging. 

On the other side was the unmistakable layout of a cell block, with metal doors lining both sides of the hallway. The first one to the right was open and that was where he was directed. Once he was inside, the door closed and a lock turned and clicked. 

The cell was not terrible. He didn’t know what he’d expected but was still pleasantly surprised. There was a washroom, warm water, a towel, clean clothes, a bed and a small table and a stool. Though deliberate care had been taken to avoid any sharp objects. The mirror in the bathroom for example was made of a flexing material that offered some kind of guidance but hardly a proper reflection. He pulled a hand over his stubble. There was nothing he could do about that right now. He removed the many layered bandage. Diagonally from his collarbone across his pectoral was a thin black crust, lined with, and he startled, stitches! Surrounding the healing wound was the emerging, purple scar tissue from where the energy bolt had burned through his chest plate and, through an insane amount of luck, gone just past his heart.

When he was finished in the bathroom, he discovered that through a hatch in the lower section of the door, someone had shoved a tray of food that looked like sheets of yellow dough with some form of filling in between.

More time passed. He was awake on the bed, staring at the ceiling, when the lock clicked and the door swung open. Talos and the short, determined-looking soldier entered. The former carried a set of restraints which he casually waved with, while the soldier aimed steadily at Yon-rogg. 

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Talos said.

“I want my uniform back,” Yon-rogg said while getting cuffed.

To his surprise, Talos did not throw some sarcastic comment. “Of course. It’s on board.”

He was led through the facility the same way he’d come, past the door to the room where he had woken up, into an elevator that took them upwards. It opened up into a hangar where a drop ship waited. Outside was an escort of Skrulls, all armed with sniper rifles. Typical hostage exchange setup. Each side would agree on the maximum number of soldiers, and both would pick long distance weapons to offer sufficient threat, should anyone go back on their word. 

He walked into the drop ship and was relieved by the sight of his uniform on the floor. It was in the state he would have expected, blood stained and with a cracked chest plate.

The craft lifted. Yon-rogg spent the travel time contemplating the different scenarios that might meet him on his return. The Supremor had been clear in its demand. It was only a matter of time before that threat would become reality. But how soon, was the question. 

They set down in the desert. He couldn’t tell for certain, but it could very well be the same that he had crashed into, where Carol had decided he wasn’t worth killing. 

Talos approached him and pulled up a knife which he held between his hands.

“I made a promise,” the Skrull declared while thrumming the flat of the blade against his palm. “That you would be handed over in the same condition as my wife. Let’s hope, for you both, that she still has her ears.” 

Yon-rogg answered dryly. “If I were you, I would worry more about what happens after the exchange, than before. Regardless of what happens to me, you’ll have bigger problems than your wife’s ears.”

Talos gave him an unkind shove towards the ramp. He stumbled but managed to stay on his feet, though the strain made his wound bite painfully. He grunted but kept a straight face.

The sun burned relentlessly outside, so bright he had to squint. One hundred steps from the drop ship, two small Kree vessels waited. It was too far away to discern any faces, but one figure Yon-rogg could not mistake for anyone else; Ronan.

He schooled his expression to one of certainty. He was still Commander of Starforce and Ronan’s equal in rank. He would not be cowed by the fact that the Accuser had been sent in person to collect him. Sense of honor and justice, not treachery, had brought him to this point. He had nothing to be ashamed of.

Two Kree soldiers emerged carrying a stretcher. Yon-rogg’s pulse quickened. His earlier indifference was only partly pretence. He did know there was a not too uncommon practice for captive Skrulls to have their ears cut off. He used to tell himself it didn’t matter. They were often killed shortly after, regardless. 

A sudden sharp pain in the back of his leg forced him down to his knees at the same time that Talos pressed the edge of his knife against his cheek, the point hovering dangerously close to his eye. Yon-rogg kept very still, his breath shallow.

“Accuser!” Talos roared. “This was not the agreement. Unharmed, you said!”

“Wait,” Yon-rogg rasped out, praying that Talos wouldn’t cut his ear or throat off in a fit of rage.

“What?” his captor grunted, looking down at him a moment.

Beside Ronan, a small, green figure emerged, accompanied by a warrior that had to be Korath. Talos let out a shaking breath that ended in something almost like a sob.

“Get up,” the Skrull urged, tugging at him. 

Yon-rogg grimaced and struggled to get up with his hands bound, eventually getting some reluctant help from his captor. Beside him, someone dropped his battered uniform and boots in the dust. Realizing he had no choice, he arduously managed to maneuver the uniform over his right shoulder and collect the boots in one of his bound hands. The weight was punishing in his current state. Not the dignified entrance he had preferred, but he would not leave them behind.

As was customary, they would meet halfway for the exchange. Behind them, the Skrull soldiers readied their blasters, equipped with long distance aims. On the opposite side, Kree soldiers would be doing the same.

The soldiers with the stretcher passed them on the way. Yon-rogg’s eyes were inevitably drawn to their gruesome burden; what remained of the Skrull he had brought on board the Nemesis just days earlier.

Talos eyes were locked on Soren. She looked like she would like to run but kept pace with Korath, who just like Talos wasn’t looking at his ward, but at Yon-rogg. As always, the warrior was difficult to read. Finally they stood face to face, just two steps separating them. Korath opened Soren’s bonds, and a moment later, Yon-rogg was released, too.

Talos said, “You are free to go, Kree. Soren, you can come now.”

Soren took one step, then another, and then practically fell into Talos. They hugged once, hard, then swiftly made their way back to the others.. 

Korath lifted the restraints, but Yon-rogg shook his head once. There was no need. He could be spared the dishonor of being herded back as a criminal. He was not a traitor. Korath met his gaze with cold indifference, but lowered the restraints. Perhaps as a small show of respect for what had been, he lifted Yon-rogg’s uniform from his shoulder, carrying it over his own on their way back.

For some reason, Yon-rogg turned, over and over, during the walk, to look at the Skrulls. Talos and Soren were embraced by the short soldier, all three of them hugging together. Something in him wanted to be there, instead of where he was going. Like he had unwittingly exited a warm place and was now walking into the biting cold, understanding only now the difference.

No word was uttered before they had reached the ship. Ronan looked as unmoved as always.

“Where is the weapon?” Ronan asked. Meaning Carol, of course. 

The Skrulls’ transport took off. It would be possible to shoot it down but not without risk; they did not know if the enemy had any hidden arsenal. Or where Carol currently was, Yon-rogg realized. 

He lifted his chin a little. “I don’t know. Surprisingly, they wouldn’t say.”

Ronan contemplated this seriously as if he had caught no hint of the sarcasm. “C53 will be purged of the Skrull infestation, once our warships return.”

Korath and Ronan had come in a small personal transport. The rest of the escort left on their own ship. Ronan gestured for Korath to take the helm, leaving him and Yon-rogg alone in the passenger area.

There were seats along the walls but Yon-rogg remained standing. “I am no traitor, if that’s what you’ve been told.”

“Perhaps not,” the Accuser pondered. “Inadequacy is enough.”

“Care to elaborate?”

The Accuser set the hilt of his hammer on the floor. “It was a mistake to give you charge of her.”

Yon-rogg swayed a little as the craft set off, being forced to use the wall for balance. His chest ached. He grit his teeth. “Carol is nobody’s charge anymore. Yet she helped us. She can be turned.”

Ronan stood as unmoving as before. “Your opinions are affected by your emotions and therefore mean nothing; you are compromised. The weapon will be dealt with. She will be ours or be destroyed. That is final.”

He was left alone with those words, sinking down on a seat, his entire body thanking him for the relief but his heart left him no peace. He had been prepared to give himself up for the sake of honor and justice, because of an overwhelming certainty that Carol was important to the Kree and that destroying her would be a mistake. He prayed that Ronan’s words were just the Accuser’s signature over-confidence. That Carol’s trust in  _ him _ had been her only weakness, one that would soon be disposed of.

He looked at his uniform, splayed on the floor. As broken and mishandled as he felt. They were one and the same in that respect. 

He hardly noticed when they made contact with the Nemesis and the craft set down. This time he was put in restraints. His combat skills were renowned; they would not take the risk of him grabbing a weapon or hostage. The looks he received along the way were nothing short of flabberghast, accompanied by dropping jaws, gasps and general confusion. He kept his face still. The Supremor would be the judge of him, not these people.

On-sar met with him outside the communion chamber. She looked tight-bitten.

"Admiral," Yon-rogg greeted with fake lightness.

She sighed and shook her head. "Tell me this is just a misunderstanding, Commander."

He straightened, more serious now. "I have been unclear in my actions. Too liberal, perhaps. But never disloyal."

She looked him over swiftly. "What happened to your uniform?"

"Broken, but it can be mended."

"I hope it's not the only thing that can."

"Admiral" He hesitated, acutely aware of Ronan's looming presence. This was a personal request. One he has no right to ask for but no one else to ask it of, either. "On-sar. My father and brother will want to know." The full story, he finished internally, hoping the message came through.

"I will see to it," On-sar said, her voice cold but eyes intent, telling him she meant it.

That was it. The door opened and Yon-rogg entered alone. 

He stepped onto the pad not sure what he was feeling. This was not how he had expected his career - and definitely not his life - to end. It should bother him more, but somewhere between dread and determination he found an odd peace with himself. 

The simulation opened up to him. Though it has only been days since he spoke to the Supremor, the events in between made it feel more like years.

He noted that his hands were cuffed here as well as in the world outside, just as his clothes were the same. The Supremor materialized in front of him. "Yon-rogg," they said evenly.

"Intelligence." He bowed his head slightly. There was no point in groveling. He had made his choice.

"Well done."

His eyes darted up. What?

"Well done," they repeated with more emphasis as they walked closer. "You may not have done what we  _ asked _ for, but this outcome exceeds our expectations."

Entering the Intelligence meant he shared his memories with them. What conclusion did they make from them that eluded his own perspective?

"But I disobeyed your orders," he fumbled for understanding. "I destroyed the implant."

They shook their head and smiled, placing their hand on his shoulders. "But you have given us something better."

"H-how?" he stammered.

"Your suggestion to bring Carol into the conflict spurred the Skrulls to figure out a way to incapacitate her and control her powers. You made her their enemy. Made them work for us."

He shook their hands off himself. "What have they done to her?"

They looked seriously at him. "They have stolen one of Mar-vell's inventions." 

Yon-rogg began walking back and forth. He irritably jerked on the restraints. "What does it do?"

"It's a weapon. A prototype, like the engine core. Unlike the latter, this one was never fully realized. There was no sufficient power source."

"But they have Carol," he added.

"Yes."

He frowned, turning to face them. "I fail to see the brilliance in this development."

"It will kill her."

His jaw worked uselessly, unable to formulate anything useful from the fear that rose in him. The Supremor pressed their lips to a thin line. 

"This bothers you," they said.

"I care for her." He wanted to be the first to admit it, rather than the words being stolen from him. "If we help her…" The look of mournful sympathy he received made him stop.

"It's too late. We have an intimate understanding of her unlimited power, as well as the very real limits of her mortal shell."

He crumbled. His knees gave in. "Forgive me," he whispered.

The Supremor then did something they had never done before. They bent down, offering their hand. He looked up at them, despite the shameful tears that streaked his face, and felt like something lifted in his chest. His restraints opened and he took their offered hand.

They pulled him to his feet. "The Skrulls will doubtlessly attempt an attack on Hala. We catch them there, and it will be the end of the Skrull threat, as well as the sympathies they have gained within the Empire."

Yon-rogg drew a suspenseful breath. "Tell me what to do, Your Intelligence."

Their tone hardened. "Kill them all."

Conviction once again burned bright in his chest. It was both terrifying and the most wonderful feeling at the same time; to hate indiscriminately.

"For the good of all Kree."


	19. Retaliation

Talos had expected many things upon Soren's return to him. First of all, to hold her close on their flight back to the base. She would be shaken, he thought. Hurt perhaps. He had imagined all sorts of horrific things they'd done to her. He was prepared for it all. But not this.

For the entire return trip, Soren's sole focus was her co-prisoner. Jagun, whose name and circumstance she swiftly informed Talos of, had apparently been released by On-sar's orders. Talos asked why, as the Kree typically would execute their prisoners, but Soren just tasked him to fetch whatever medical kits were on board. She remained at Jagun's side, covering his crusted burns with moist bandages and coaxing him to drink water. He reluctantly obliged. Talos understood the man's hesitation; he was scarred and broken to the point where nothing could fully heal him. Despite this, a jealous muscle that Talos has almost forgotten he had, began twitching.

Tank joined to help Soren, the two women speaking with hushed voices over their patient. Talos went to the cockpit where he felt equally useless but less rejected. 

From Soren’s short retelling, Talos made the conclusion that Jagun was the Skrull he had, in a fit of helpless anger, berated Carol for not killing. Looking back at his conversation with her, his gut wrenched hot with guilt. It rattled him how quick he had been to send one of his own to their death. Was he so different from Veranke, in that respect? The soldier wasn’t the most gruesome case of torture Talos had seen, but the worst of the living ones. He almost regretted treating the Kree Commander as respectfully as he had, but Fury had set it as a condition. Something about a ‘war convention’ that his human nation had signed. 

But that, he admitted, wasn't the entire reason. Talos had leered at the Kree’s discomfort about him taking his form, but what Talos did not share was that he too felt compromised. The Kree were not big on love. Their language hardly had adequate words for it. But that’s what it was. This stubborn, haughty, brainwashed-to-the-core Kree Commander,  _ loved  _ Carol. The moment Talos realized, he had snapped out of the shift. He did not want to intrude on Carol this way. He had seen what had happened on the Vindicator; that was enough. 

The return trip from the prisoner exchange was thankfully a short one. When they arrived at their destination, an underground base built by Fury’s human nation, a medic team took over and Soren finally had nothing to occupy herself with. She stood at the base of the ramp, facing away from him, arms hanging, shoulders slumped from exhaustion.

"Soren," he said softly, turned her around and gathered her close, crushing her into him. She leaned on him, her head on his shoulder.

"I'm filthy," she said weakly.

"You're alive. I'll wash you."

She chuckled, then the laugh became a sob. "Talos," she whimpered and dug her nose into his neck. He could have stood like that forever, just savoring the fact that she was here, whole and breathing. 

Then she asked, with sudden awareness, "Where are we?" She leaned out from him to look around. He took her hands, holding them against his chest, reluctant to let her part physically from him.

"Earth. I came here to put a stop to Veranke, and to find Carol. I found neither.”

She was all curious intensity again, despite her exhaustion. “That was her old commander, wasn’t it? At the exchange?”

He nodded. “When I arrived, Carol was gone but we found the Kree Commander instead. Badly wounded but alive. I looked into his memories, and it seems that Veranke has forced Carol's cooperation somehow. I have no clue where they are now. Veranke shot the Kree almost at once, and left him for dead." He shuddered. The memory had been recent and intense.

Soren looked thoughtful as she laid the puzzle in her brilliant mind, and her brow creased. "But how were you going to go up against Veranke?"

"I'm king, Soren." A surge of pride followed the words. He had not worn the crown at the exchange. It seemed reckless to reveal his new status to the enemy. They would find out in time.

Her mouth fell open, eyes wide with surprise. "But what about Veranke's Vote?"

"It didn't pass. So I did the only thing I could. To try and sort this mess out."

"You called for a Vote," she said wonderingly. "I thought… you said…"

He looked down, somewhat embarrassed at the reminder of his distrust in their elders. In Ruza. "I know. I should have listened less to Veranke and more to common sense." Soren’s expression was neither praising nor condemning but somehow that made him scrutinize himself even harder. "And this is the result," he admitted ruefully. "I tried to call Veranke back. I even offered her a complete exoneration." His voice dropped to a spiteful grumble. “Though she doesn’t deserve it.”

Soren spread her slim hands inside his larger ones and stroked him across the chest, finally resting them around his neck. Her touch sent tendrils of desire through him and he breathed out slowly, forcefully reminding his body that it would have to wait. She needed rest.

Her lip quirked and she said solemnly, "King Talos." 

He leaned forward to claim a kiss from her before she proceeded with making fun of him. She allowed one stroke of his lips before she once again pulled back, looking serious this time.

"When I was on Pallakor, I found out why Kree can't develop immunity. I helped them make a cure, by volunteering as donor."

His lust abruptly stomped out, Talos felt foolish. He hadn't asked what had happened during her captivity. He had simply pictured her alone and frightened in a cold cell, waiting for rescue.

That explained why she had been spared torture. "Tell me everything," he bid her.

He listened as she told her story from the point where he had left her on Pallakor to when Ronan took her to the exchange. Cold shivers went through him at the realization of how close she had been to death. Several times too. He also better understood her protectiveness of Jagun. Talos had been lucky not to end up a prisoner but he knew that those who survived had a bond with their fellow prisoners that formed quickly, and remained thereafter. 

She had also been impossibly brave, he thought, his chest swelling with pride once more, but this time for being chosen as a mate by this woman. At the end of her story, he cupped her face, looking wonderingly into it. "You are extraordinary. So brave. So damn intelligent. Why are you married to this fool in front of you?"

As he expected, she smiled shyly, looking down. "I have a lot more to tell you. But first I need to clean up, talk to Indes and get the thing out of my leg." She took a step back from him but he kept a hold on her hands, smirking at her confusion.

"I meant what I said about washing you."

"It would be unfair to keep Indes waiting." She made another attempt to leave but he still held her, negotiating,

"Use my comm, call her first."

Soren relented and sighed, head falling back with a smile. He released one of her hands but kept hold on the other, gently pulling her with him into the ship again.

The Mar-vell was cloaked in orbit, overseen by it's new quartermaster, but the ship they had arrived in had a transmitter too. While they waited for the operator to fetch their daughter, Talos pulled Soren down on his lap, placing a light kiss on her neck. "You know," he hummed. "According to Fury, on this planet you would be titled  _ queen _ ."

She looked at him with amused surprise. "Because we're married?"

"M-hm. I told him you would overthrow me at the first disagreement."

She looked innocently at him while suppressing a smile. "What is there to disagree on when I’m right?"

His heart warmed at her teasing. She was herself. Whole and intact. He moved to kiss her neck again but then the hologram flickered and their daughter came into view. Soren leaned forward.

“Mom!” The girl’s voice was a relieved squeak at first, but her expression quickly hardened. “Did dad kill all the Kree?”

***

Soren paused, looking questioningly at Talos for a moment. He shook his head. “No. I was released.”

It wasn’t enough to reassure Indes, who was still on the offense.“Did they hurt you? Jessup said the Kree would cut your ears off.”

A chill moved down her spine, but Soren made an effort of seeming untroubled, lifting her hands tentatively, pretending to be looking for her ears, eventually finding them. She let out a dramatic sigh of relief, grinning. “Nope, still there. You had me worried there for a moment!” 

Finally the youngling chuckled and relaxed. “What was it like on the Kree ship?”

Soren thought for a long moment before answering. She wanted to tell the truth, Talos and her had agreed early on to be honest with their daughter, while sparing her from the more gruesome details.

“I met another mother,” Soren finally said.

“A Skrull?”

“No. A Kree. A leader, like your father. Her son was very ill. I cured him.”

Indes looked thoughtful. “So she helped you in return.”

“In a way.”

She didn’t know how to explain the complex feelings she harbored for the Kree at this point. Ta-rinn’s courage and openness, along with On-sar’s rigid rectitude, compared to the treatment she received from everyone else, jarred against each other in her memory.

“When are you coming back?” Indes asked. Now Talos made some space for himself in front of the recorder.

“There are some things we have to sort out first,” he said, making it sound like no big deal.

Soren realized she didn’t know if Talos had told Indes that Carol was gone. She didn’t dare to say anything, in case the information was sensitive.

“I wanna be with you,” their daughter complained.

“We want to be with you too,” Talos assured her. “We will see each other soon. I promise.”

They exchanged some ‘love you's' and then Indes reluctantly agreed to say goodbye. Soren turned in Talos’s lap to look seriously at him. 

“She doesn’t know that Carol is gone?” 

A shadow fell over Talos’s face.

Something serious had apparently happened, and while she desperately wanted to know, she gave him time to gather his thoughts. He drew a few heavy breaths, a frown deepening with each, eyes distant - something she recognized in him as the look of a painful memory.

He spoke slowly, voice gravelly, “I said some things to Carol, when I realized you had been captured. I was angry - no - afraid out of my senses.” He closed his eyes with a pained expression and buried his face in her shoulder, muffling his voice. “I blamed her.”

“And now Veranke has her,” Soren said grimly. He nodded with his forehead against her skin. She could practically feel the guilt rolling off him. She turned in his lap so he leaned his head against her chest instead. If he noticed the layers of dried dirt and sweat he didn’t show it. She caressed his head, her hand landing around his neck, giving it a light squeeze. “We’ll find her,” she reassured him, truly believing it, too. Anything else was unthinkable.

“Do you think Jagun could help us get in touch with Veranke?”

“Doubt it. He’s very loyal.” Jagun had stubbornly refused to answer any questions concerning Veranke on their way back, with Tank being the main instigator. 

Talos sighed heavily and leaned into her again, scrunching his nose this time. “You need a bath, my dear.”

“That’s what I said,” she replied flatly.

He chuckled, some of the weightiness set aside for the moment. “Alright. One thing at a time. Let’s get you cleaned up. And see what’s on ‘the thing’ in your leg.” He gently patted her knee. Then she felt him shift as he moved his feet, his grip on her tightening.

She yelped as he lifted her between his arms and hoisted her once to get a better grip, before walking them down the ramp and into the base. After just a few steps, she reluctantly admitted how wonderful it felt to be carried. Her leg throbbed and her body instantly took the opportunity to melt into Talos, yearning for some rest at last after days of being constantly on edge.

She was alive. It dawned on her then just how unbelievable that was.

***

Carol felt more dead than alive, like she was bruised from the tip of her fingers to the end of her toes, every part of her enfolded in a dull pain, pulsating at the same rate as her heartbeat. She groaned, and struggled to find a foothold on the floor, but her legs were weak and buckled under her weight, leaving her on her knees, weakly hanging from her arms. Little lights danced before her eyes but she strained herself to see regardless. She had no memory of what had happened after the machine, or battery or whatever it was, had more or less sucked the life out of her.

“You’re awake. Good.” Vorik approached her, shining a light in her eyes, checking her pupils for reaction. 

She wanted to rage at him but all that came from her lips was a tepid, “What happened?”

“You are a conduit.” He spoke with professional detachment while checking her arms where the clasps fit over them. “But there are downsides. You don’t normally channel this… effect on your own. It’s unfortunate that we were unable to locate the original source of your power.”

Carol's mind spun. His words became liquid, their meaning slipped away from her. “Why?" she croaked.

Vorik smiled coolly. “My sister gives as good as she gets.” He stepped away from her and was about to go to the other side of the pit where, she suspected, the control instruments were.

“Then what about you?” she asked to his back, a little more strength returning to her voice now.

He stopped and his head hung a little, as if her questions were tiring. “I promised our father, before he died after the bombardment of Torfa - the one where you got captured - that I would finish his work. And help my sister.”

Carol finally managed to command her muscles enough to stand on her feet again, though her balance was off. She staggered, supporting herself on her bonds. 

Something about the way Vorik had looked at her when she arrived made her feel there was a sliver of doubt, a tiny crack in his resolve. She would gladly throttle him later but right now she had to focus. She owed Yon-rogg as much. She gritted out between strained breaths, "There are... other ways. You've... seen what Talos and Soren are... trying to do."

He turned and looked tiredly at her. "I don't have time for this."

"Why? Where are we going?"

He raised his brow, incredulous. "Haven't you figured that out yet?" 

“Hala,” a terse voice from above cut through their conversation. Veranke glowered at her brother and then towards Carol. "Is she ready for another charge?"

"I think so," Vorik said, still looking at Carol. "Might have to lower the effect though. She recovered this time but…"

Veranke jumped down to their level, graceful as a lioness and every bit as menacing. She stepped to Carol, taking her chin in her hand. Carol snarled and janked her head away. 

"She looks well enough," Veranke snorted. "We will take what we need. Exact vengeance with the same weapon they used on us. Isn't that justice?" She tilted her head, searching Carol's face with a bland expression. 

Carol instinctively began to charge herself up but nothing came of her attempt, the glow she summoned was eaten by Mar-vell's machine. She clenched her jaw.  _ Anger only serves the enemy _ , echoed in her head. Come on, focus. "Hala has ten billion inhabitants," Carol said with rising desperation. "Most of them don't know anything but what the Supreme Intelligence tells them."

Veranke rolled her eyes. "How is it that when Kree civilians are threatened, collateral damage suddenly becomes a problem? You do know this is war, right? People die." 

Carol strained against the bonds, struggling to keep the helpless anger at bay. "The Accusers will…"

The other just leered. "The Accusers are unfortunately preoccupied elsewhere. They  _ may _ have received intel with proof of a Skrull colony on an offshoot planet." 

"You wouldn't…" Carol lost her breath a moment, then cried with as much anger as despair, "They are your own people! How could you!?" She looked at Vorik, but he looked away. He had been an integral part of Talos' crew. He knew every face of the people that his sister just sold out to the Accusers, which made his indifference even harder to understand.

For just a moment, Veranke seemed like she was giving Carol's words some consideration. Then her expression hardened. "Do you think Talos had such concerns when he let the Accusers bomb the Torfa colony, in order to catch you?"

Carol had nothing to offer in retort. She had no idea what losses the Torfa colony had suffered, she realized. "They said it was a Skrull stronghold," she petered.

Veranke snorted. "If they consider hunkering families, newly hatched, and street living orphans a 'stronghold'."

"I'm not saying that the Kree aren't wrong." She had to make them understand that what they were doing was as wrong as it was inefficient. "But destroying Hala will not end the war. Their AI doesn't exist just there. You'll just kill countless civilians and the Kree will make it look like the Skrulls are the true evil.”

The General's gaze flicked to her brother, a look that could be hesitation. "It's too late," she said rigidly. "The Kree made it come to this."

It made no sense to Carol. For all her hot temper and brashness, even  _ she  _ could see the short sightedness of this plan. Then, sudden clarity hit her. "I see. This isn't about strategy - this is vengeance. This… is personal."

Veranke made a snarling sound, showing her teeth as her lip curled back. The Skrull lunged but Carol's reflexes held; she ducked. Veranke panted, furious, and hissed in Carol's ear, "You don't know me, Kree. You have no idea who I am."

"You're right." Carol was acutely aware that her enemy had repeated her own words from one year ago almost to the letter. "I don't. Only you know who you are."

"If you think your words mean anything to me, you're mistaken." The Skrull straightened, regaining her composure. Without another word, she turned around and climbed out of the pit. Carol wondered if she had managed to dent Veranke's conviction. Or just piss her off. Both were fine, in her opinion. 

Vorik looked after Veranke as she left. Then he turned to Carol. His voice was factual, detached. 

"The Kree took everything from us. Our mother was a healer. They killed her while she begged for the life of our little sister. Both died, of course. Along with our home. Our friends."

Despite her resentment for the siblings, Carol felt her throat tighten. In her mind’s eye, she saw Soren with her daughter, indiscriminately killed by Kree blaster fire. Who would Talos have been, if that had been the fate of his family? Then her imagination brought forth Maria and Monica, dead in each other's arms. Who would she be then? What would she do? 

She knew the answer. She would be burning through world after world in hunt for a peace that never came. No amount of destruction could heal that kind of sorrow.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Vorik lifted his chin a little, looking down at her. "You see? We are as Kree-made as you are."

***

Yon-rogg kept his exterior composed but inside he was choking on his anger, to the point where his hands trembled as he stepped into the stealth fighter’s pilot seat. It felt like his whole body was charged and the only outlet available to him was violence. Destruction. He longed for it.

On-sar had been reluctant to let him loose; she knew the reason he longed to get into the fray. But in the end, he was a Commander in his own right and they could ill afford to hold back anyone willing to fight.

"All set?" he asked over his shoulder, adjusting the straps on the harness before he took the controls.

“All set,” Ta-rinn affirmed from behind him, where she was manning the rear turrets of the two-man craft.

The engines hummed to life at his command, and he steered them out of the hangar, into formation with the flanking squadron. He tensed with anticipation, heart thrumming and breath tight. Emotions he had trained himself to contain now drowned him until he could do nothing but give in and use it instead.

All fighter ships with their own jump drive would be ready to dive into the fight the moment they left the jump point. Starforce, or what remained of them - Att-lass was not yet allowed to leave quarantine despite the success of On-sar’s medical team - would enter as part of the second wave. The first would be the Silver Aster. With any luck, Ronan would be able to incapacitate the main threat enough for the smaller fighter ships to clean up the remains.

The comm was open while they waited for clearance to move through the jump point.

He closed his eyes a moment and his thoughts went to Carol. They constantly did, the moment he did not force himself to focus elsewhere. If he died today, would he reunite with her? She was nothing but Kree to him, despite knowing her origins. He had not yet told anyone of his strange encounters with Minn-erva, and he wondered; would Carol come to him, too? If he lived through this day, he hoped she would. 

He startled out of his thoughts when they got clearance to move. He pushed the thrust hard and heard Ta-rinn grunt as she was flung forward against her harness. The jump point rippled through them and the view of Hala opened up.

It immediately became clear to Yon-rogg that the battle was not going as planned. Whereas initial reports have pointed at a fleet of warbands and scattered ships, what he was looking at now was his home planet surrounded by enemy ships that moved in tight formations, attacking its shields in intervals. And above it, the Vindicator and the Silver Aster loomed silent in space. The massive ships moved sluggishly like two giant whales to get into firing position. 

It didn’t matter, Yon-rogg knew. The Silver Aster would make short work of the Skrull cruiser. For once in his career, he quite appreciated the Accusers tactics.

But just as they flew below the Aster, the Vindicator fired instead. All it's cannonry focused to one point, sending a sharp, golden beam straight through the center of the warship.

For a moment, all was still and silent. No orders on the comm, no firing. As the warship slowly began to tilt, drifting along the trajectory it has been sent to, things came alive again.

_ "Fifth squadron, disengage! Retreat to jump point." _

He reeled. They would pull out? Now? Yon-rogg looked at Hala. The blue shimmer of the shield still held but for how long, against  _ that?  _ He could only come up with one explanation to what he had seen:  _ Carol. _

“Commander?” Ta-rinn’s hesitant voice reached him and he realized their squadron was leaving without them.

Yon-rogg pushed his comm, talking directly to On-sar. "That's Carol. They still have her. I'm going in."

" _ No _ ." Her reply was immediate, uncompromising.  _ "Without the Accuser fleet we don't stand a chance. We have to wait." _

"I can get to her. Give me time."

" _ She is dead."  _ On-sar's tone had become admonishing with a hint of concern.  _ "Return to jump point. We'll wait for the Accuser fleet. Six hours out. Pray Hala’s shields will hold.” _

He swallowed, his mouth dry. The Accusers would, in the case they weren’t blown to pieces like the Silver Aster, destroy Carol along with the Skrulls.

"Then how do you explain  _ that _ ?" Yon-rogg persisted. "If they can use her power, that means she's alive. I'm going." He turned the ship and thrust towards the Skrull cruiser.

The reply was as swift as it was harsh. _ "Get a grip on yourself Commander." _

His face heated, mostly because he knew he deserved it. If they remained, without the Silver Aster, they wouldn't stand a chance. The warship slowly fell apart, the enormous mass of it disintegrating piece by piece in bursts of fire. Emergency pods and fighterships spewed out from every angle. Some lucky ones might make it to Hala's surface.

They still raced towards Vindicator while the rest of the Kree fighter ships had all turned around. From a distance, enemy ships began approaching. Within a minute, they would find themselves in battle at a hopeless disadvantage. All the while, Tarin had been silent. He knew she would follow his lead if he made the decision to throw away their lives, because that's what a continued assault would mean. He had no right to do that. 

With an anguished curse, he turned the ship around towards the jump point. He would have to find another way. 

***

Six hours. He set his timekeeper to the number, his heartbeat increasing every time he watched the number descend one increment. His thoughts were chaotic. Needs, wants and convictions collided violently until nothing remained but confusion and one single clear thought, thundering in his mind: Carol was alive. 

Meanwhile, the Supremor’s instructions were to wait for the Accuser warships, returning from what seemed like nothing less than a well staged diversion, sending the slow ships on a lengthy crawl to a hidden colony, far from the nearest jump point. They had been foolish to swallow such a bait, Yon-rogg thought, but the Accusers had always been overconfident. And now the Silver Aster, along with Ronan, was gone.

After a hurried walk from the hangar to medbey, Yon-rogg barged into the quarantine, followed by Ta-rinn. Inside, Att-lass rose from a chair, looking surprised at their rushed entrance.

“Commander," he greeted formally. He was already wearing his uniform, signaling that he was ready to serve. 

“At ease."

He glanced back at Ta-rinn. She had been unusually reticent lately, he thought. Something was going on but perhaps it was only the matter of her and Att-lass. Regardless, there was no time to stall. 

“Carol needs our help,” he said bluntly. “She is taken captive by Skrull General Veranke who has forced her cooperation, using her to power a stolen prototype.”

“So that’s what that was,” Ta-rinn murmured.

Yon-rogg continued, “Our instruction so far is to wait for the Accuser fleet to return. Except, I fear it will be too late by then. For Hala, and for Carol.”

Att-lass shook his head, confusion turning into concern. “The Supreme Intelligence knows the best course of action. We must have faith in that.”

With more vehemence than intended, Yon-rogg retorted, “Perhaps that is so, but Carol will  _ die _ unless we help her. Either because of incompetent Skrull fiddling with stolen tech, or the Accusers’ bombings. And I think we can all agree that Hala’s shields will not hold for long, if at all. If we follow orders this time, we win the battle but lose Carol and our capital.” He realized he was breathing heavily and righted himself, forcing himself to at least appear reasonable. "I will not stand by and watch as that happens, not if there is another way."

Silence fell heavy with Att-lass and Ta-rinn exchanging hesitant looks. Yon-rogg could not stop himself from glancing at his time keeper, instantly sending another wave of anxiousness through him. They had two hours of slack, at most.

“So what are you suggesting?” Att-lass asked, finally.

“Instead of waiting, we get help from the outside.” Yon-rogg felt like he had to force the words out of his mouth. “From Veranke’s enemy.”

Att-lass was perplexed “Who? Why wouldn’t the Supremor consider this option?”

Yon-rogg held his breath a moment, “Because he is a Skrull. General Talos is our enemy, but in this, our interests align.”

Ta-rinn’s eyes widened but she did not look as shocked as one would expect. Att-lass, on the other hand, was aghast, shaking his head in utter disbelief. “That’s insane. We can’t do that! He would use our disadvantage and destroy us."

Frustrated, Yon-rogg sighed, "What disadvantage could he make use of that Veranke already hasn't?"

Att-lass threw Ta-rinn an accusing glare. “Have you nothing to say about this?"

She shrunk back under his gaze. Something was off. Ta-rinn worried her lip, casting sideward glances at the now empty med pod. "On-sar's med team didn't make the cure," she said low, and drew a trembling breath. "Soren did."

Yon-rogg swallowed hard. Carol had said Soren was looking for a cure, and at the time, he had dismissed her completely. He clasped his hands behind his back to hide the fact that they were shaking. 

"Who is Soren?" Att-lass asked, sounding as if he didn’t think he would like the answer.

"Talos's wife," Yon-rogg said. Both looked at him in surprise.

He would have to explain all of it, he realized, they would not understand otherwise. This was not a mere question of following orders. He smiled somberly as the irony of the situation dawned on him. What had he told Carol, mere days ago?  _ My loyalty and faith are not up for negotiation. I will die true to both. _

But… he had died. Only Carol’s blood,  _ their _ blood, had restored him to life. 

For a vertiginous moment, he let himself wonder if everything she had said was true, but withdrew from the notion as soon as he touched it, as if burned. There would be time to consider these things later. Or no time at all, if he was dead by then. The latter was less complicated and almost tempting in comparison.

"Anyway," Ta-rinn interrupted his thoughts, her voice mournful. "Ronan fetched her to the Silver Aster and now… now it’s gone.”

“She wasn’t on the Silver Aster,” Yon-rogg amended swiftly. "She's back with her people."

The look of relief on Ta-rinn’s face spoke volumes. He still didn’t know the details of what had surpassed on the Nemesis while he had been gone, but he could guess the gist of it. Soren had saved Att-lass’s life, and Ta-rinn had been involved, too.

Time was valuable but he spent the next minutes explaining what had happened to him. He told them about the events on the Skrull cruiser, and how he had awoken in the care of Carol’s Terran allies on C53. How he, against his expectation, had been treated honorably and his freedom exchanged for Soren’s.

There was a gleam in Ta-rinn's eyes and she smiled. Att-lass just seemed annoyed. Annoyed and rattled. “So why would Talos help us?"

Yon-rogg understood. If their places were reversed, he would probably react the same way., “Either Talos intervenes, or every skrull onboard that cruiser will die as soon as the Accusers are back. It’s a trade. He gets to save his people, and we save our home.”

“And Carol,” Ta-rinn added. “She came to our help. We can’t abandon her now.”

Yon-rogg nodded, silently congratulating himself for recruiting her. “That’s right, we can’t.” 

He then looked at Att-lass. The warrior’s frown remained but he drew a slow breath and his shoulders dropped a little as his features softened. “Alright. I’m in. I don’t like it but I’ll do it for Hala, and Carol. Where do we start?”

Yon-rogg gave the timekeeper on his arm a concerned look. There was no time for hesitation. This was a do or don't. “The hangars."

They swiftly crossed the Nemesis' corridors until they reached the main hangar deck. There, they began looking through each opening for a suitable craft. The hallway was chaotic. The smaller ships that had been deployed for the battle had returned, and the place swarmed with support personnel checking and preparing for the next deployment. Starforce might normally have stuck out of the crowd, but everyone was thankfully too busy to give them much attention. 

The next hangar opening revealed a relatively modern shuttle that was just being unhooked from the fuel line. The model had decent shielding as well as armored hull and a single turret up front. Not exactly Starforce standard but it would do. Yon-rogg confidently strode towards the craft, approaching a Kree in pilot uniform. The young Kree instantly recognized him.

"Commander!" they greeted, saluting with youthful enthusiasm.

He made his choice immediately. He could use his rank and status to get permissions and take the ship. But that might put the young Kree, who had no part in this scheme whatsoever, in serious trouble. Therefore, a more direct approach was preferable. As soon as he was close enough that his body hid his actions from the hallway outside, he pulled his pistol, discreetly pressing it into their side.

The Kree paled, staring down at the gun as if they didn’t believe what they were seeing.

“Permissions to the shuttle,” he instructed them, nodding down at the gun.

Swallowing, the Kree lifted their wrist to do as he asked. When the interface confirmed the transfer, all three of them stepped into the open hatch and Yon-rogg went to the pilot seat, Ta-rinn to co-pilot. Att-lass remained just inside the hatch, aiming one of his pistols at the pilot who stood dumbfounded on the floor, watching with wide, confused eyes as they first hovered a moment, closed the hatch, and left the Nemesis behind.

It only took a minute before the comm came live with On-sar’s voice.

“ _ Commander _ ,” she warned, voice pitched low with threat.

“That’s me,” Yon-rogg deadpanned, though his mouth was dry and he was aware that the Nemesis would blast them to bits if On-sar only gave the word. They had a few minutes run before reaching the jump point.

_ “Stop this now.” _

Recklessness flared in him again. “You’re right. I  _ am  _ going to put a stop to this. Starforce and I.”

There was a pause, before On-sar answered, more tense than stern now,  _ “Att-lass is with you?” _

“Correct.”

The comm was silent for a long while. Att-lass climbed to the cockpit, standing between Yon-rogg and Ta-rinn. He placed a hand on her arm and she grasped it gently.. 

_ “Turn back now,"  _ On-sar ordered.

Att-lass leaned forward, glancing at Yon-rogg for permission before speaking.

“Mother,” Att-lass said. Silence again. Att-lass continued, “I'm going with Starforce."

" _ I don't know what your plan is and it doesn't matter. The Supremor's…" _

Att-lass smiled somberly, "... Is never wrong. I know. But I trust my Commander. I will follow my team."

It took a moment, then On-sar replied, " _ If you return, I will not be able to protect you." _

_ " _ We'll see," Att-lass said, voice calm. He glanced at Ta-rinn and gave her hand a squeeze. Their simple affection sent jolts of longing through Yon-rogg. "Things might change."

" _ That is a foolish hope, my son."  _ The Admiral’s voice was resigned at this point.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make you proud," Att-lass lamented.

" _ I will always be proud of you." _

Att-lass stared at the comm in stunned silence. He has never known his mother, Yon-rogg knew, as anything but a distant, authoritative figure that he vaguely felt he wanted to impress. To hear those words from her now had to be bittersweet. He felt a sting of guilt for dragging Att-lass on board his mad venture but he truly didn't have a choice. He needed his team.

"Mother…"

" _ Goodbye _ ."

The connection broke and for a while, Yon-rogg wondered if she would indeed order fire on them. All three of them were silent, anticipating anything. Swift death, or to have their engine fired on by pursuers.

But as minutes went by, it was clear that they would be allowed to leave, as one final kindness from On-sar to her son.


	20. My enemy's enemy

The second time Carol woke up, her entire body felt numb. She still hung from the metal and wire construction trapping her arms, which should be painful at this point, and she recognized the telltale uncomfortable tingling of limbs stuck in a position for too long. She groaned, opening her eyes a sliver. 

The worst part wasn’t the pain, she had decided before she passed out on the second charge. It was the loss of control, the way her power was bent and pulled from her body, leaving her a useless wreck caught in the middle, robbed and beaten and utterly helpless.

But now she was just numb, and so, so tired. She’d been drugged. The conclusion came accompanied with slurred memory of a sting to her neck. Too exhausted to do anything else, Carol closed her eyes again. 

Time passed in a haze. She made small attempts to move, but soon fell back in the same position; hanging from her arms, knees resting against the floor.

After a while, it seemed whatever sedative they had given her was wearing off. She opened her eyes fully, taking in the scene on the bridge. From what she could see and hear of the low background chatter, they were still traveling towards the jump point that would take them to Hala.

Getting her bearings, Carol tried to figure out what damage had been done to her. It was an unfamiliar feeling, to actually be  _ hurt  _ . For the last year or so, she’d been virtually indestructible, and the realization that something could actually injure her was daunting. An important lesson, albeit a late one. 

As the numbness wore off, soreness took its place. She made an attempt to call on her powers, but this time, instead of the blast just being swallowed by the machine, a sharp ray of burning pain tore through her. Bewildered and a fair bit terrified, she tried using her powers in different ways, from sending bolts of electric current to pure light, to see if anything felt different, but it didn’t. It just burned until her muscles cramped and she had to struggle not to let out a pained cry.

“Don’t do that,” Vorik advised coolly. “Let yourself heal.”

“I didn’t know you cared so much,” Carol drawled venomously, turning her head at an odd angle to see him. He was holding bunches of wires protruding from the edge just above her, using his free hand to put them back in an array of sockets below. “I’m touched. Truly.”

The Skrull tech gave her a tired look. “Just stop it. It won’t do anything except hurt you.”

“Oh?” She mustered her bravado. “So technically I could kill myself doing this and then you won’t have your stand-in for a tesseract anymore?”

“It would be a slow process,” he said distractedly while continuing his work, not seeming particularly worried. “You’d pass out before succeeding.”

“How do you know so much? You’re a tech guy. Engines and ships are your thing.”

He replied in the same, disaffected manner. “I helped my mother in her clinic when I was young. I know the signs of internal burns. Common among those who cannot afford safe chargers and such.” He met her gaze pointedly. “Like Skrull refugees.”

That was a more informative reply than Carol had expected. She glanced at her bound arms. “So you… knew this would happen?”

“I suspected,” he said plainly, neither malice nor regret in his voice. “I have no grudge with you, Carol. But you have something we need, and you won’t help us willingly. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry this happens to you. But it’s nothing compared to what has already been done to others, some of it by your own hand.”

His words struck hard. She tried to think of something equally vicious to throw back at him but nothing came to her, save for a wave of unpleasant memories. Because he wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t even trying to taunt her, the truth was bad enough.

“Jump point in thirty!” someone called out. 

Vorik hastily put the remaining cables in place and climbed down to Carol’s level. He gave her a grim smile. “Showtime.”

The jump point rippled through them, and then Carol could see Hala emerge beyond the front shield. She drew in a sharp breath as groups of smaller ships soared past them towards the planet. Bombers, flying in formations of three, flanked by smaller ships of varying style and armament.

She had to do something, and not knowing what, she sent burst after burst of power through her bonds. The pain began after the first few, and Carol gasped, panting as she had to take a break, shocked anew by the way her powers betrayed her. Vorik, now busy checking readings on one of many displays, looked up at her, shaking his head as if silently telling her ‘told you so’.

Just as Carol was about to make another attempt to free herself, Veranke appeared on the bridge. Carol stilled, listening intently to overhear the General’s orders. Something was said about waiting for someone to come, to ‘save their firepower’. Meanwhile, the Vindicator slowly neared Hala and although there were defences in the form of planetary artillery and some scattered patrols, the bulk of the Kree army had been called away to deal with the drocs.

This was all planned. And damn well so. With cold realization, Carol understood that Hala would fall. There was nothing and no one close or strong enough to prevent that from happening. Part of her wanted to beg and demand for them to stop, but she already knew that would be pointless. No commander in their right mind would pull out at such an opportunity. 

The onslaught began and Hala's planetary shields shimmered and flashed under the bombers' assault. For the first time, Carol’s courage began to crumble in earnest.

_ Everything that’s happening now is your doing, can’t you see that  _ ?

Jagun's taunting words echoed back at her. The words had made her angry then. She hadn't asked for any of this. Not to be kidnapped from her homeworld, to be brainwashed, to have this power… and yet. She had it. But it felt like no matter how hard she tried to do the ‘right thing’, someone ended up suffering for it. All she had wanted was to save people. To protect as many as she could from yet another round of a ruthless, horrific war that never seemed to end.

She had promised Talos to ‘fix everything’, and where had that led her? Yon had been killed. Yon, who had abandoned his orders to help her, regardless of his own conviction. And Soren, oh God, Soren! Carol blinked back a tear, then another. The Kree would tear her friend to pieces, probably thinking she was somehow behind the droc attack. Talos would never forgive that. He would lose his mate. Their child was doomed as well, left on the planet that Veranke and Vorik had sold out to the Accusers. 

A feral, anguished roar rose in her throat and Carol furiously channeled her power, demanding that it obeyed her and burned through her bonds instead of being stolen from her. The resulting pain was so stark it made her whimper and sag to her knees again. 

She would not get out of this. She was going to  _ die  _ like this. Despite all her power, she’d let herself be manipulated and outmaneuvered, and everyone and everything she cared for would pay the ultimate price for it. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly to no one in particular. 

_ You don't belong out here! You're not strong enough! You'll kill yourself! _

This time, the echoing memories didn’t make her angry. She sank down further, her head hanging uselessly. “Mar-vell should have these powers instead. If I had protected her...” Carol whispered.

_...too emotional. Control, Carol. You have to control yourself. _

A broken, mirthless chuckle escaped her. “You’re a total hypocrite, Yon. To hell with your control. You should have stayed on the ship like I told you to.” 

But what difference would it have made? It had been  _ her  _ idea to rush to Earth and board that ship. She had taken the bait and acted exactly in the way Veranke expected.

_ You’re only human. _

No defiant sentiment rose this time.

A loud cheer rang through the bridge and Carol looked up to see a massive ship ahead of them. It was falling into pieces, a wide gash torn through its middle, explosions and debris floating all around.

“What the hell…” she whispered. “Was that..?” The  _ Silver Aster  _ ?

“They’re retreating!” someone called, followed by more cheers. People hugged, laughed and someone even sobbed in relief. 

“Alright, back to your stations!” Veranke ordered brusquely, as if they hadn’t just taken down an Accuser warship. “We aren’t done. Vorik! Another charge, now!”

Vorik appeared at Veranke’s side. Carol couldn’t hear their conversation through the many excited voices. From their body language, though, Carol could see that they were arguing. Vorik gestured towards Carol, looking like he was explaining something for the millionth time, and Veranke waved him off, shoving him towards Carol with a loud, “Do it!”

Carol grew cold as she saw the grim expression on Vorik’s face. He wouldn’t meet her gaze as he approached to check the clasps on her arms once more, pressing on her arms in places that made her wince with pain.

“Do you want a painkiller?” he asked quietly.

“A what? No!” she gasped, shock and fear rushing through her. “What are you going to do, am I going to…”

“I’ll try,” he interrupted, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. He swallowed. “Just… try to relax. It will be ok.”

Now, she panicked, yelling at his retreating back. “No, no! Don’t do this!” She was desperate now, not caring what she was promising, as long as Vorik didn’t start that hellish machine again. “Let me go, I can help you! You know what I can do, this… thing is just...”

“I’m sorry,” he said, then punched a few commands on his console and turned away from her completely, as if he couldn’t look. 

The humming power came to life. Carol’s heart raced. No, not again. She writhed and fought the bonds. She tried to hold back her power as it was pried out of her, in a small trickle at first but then it became impossible to control. Fire burned through her, and she could do nothing but howl in pain. It was a crude mercy that she blacked out almost immediately.

Then, she was floating. 

_ “Carol.” _

It felt like she was lying in water, her body gently rocked by smooth currents, and a wonderful break from the state of excruciating pain that she’d left behind. Carefully opening her eyes, she saw a cloudless sky above and the unmistakable blue-green-brown curve of Earth below. She turned her head one way, then the other, pleasantly surprised by the change in scenery.

“Carol.” The voice took a more solid shape. Walking towards her, thousands of feet above ground, was Mar-vell.

“We’re flying,” Carol observed superfluously, still lying in mid air.

Mar-vell looked around in feigned surprise, a grin forming. “So we are. Courtesy of you, I’m sure.”

“I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?” Carol muttered dryly, some of the wonder fading. “Anyways, it’s good to see you…. whatever you are.”

Mar-vell tilted her head, studying Carol. “What is troubling you?”

Carol laughed, a cracked, lunatic sound. She couldn’t help it, she’d just bemoaned the loss of most of her friends and the fact that she was probably dying as of this very moment, and here Mar-vell sounded like some kind of shrink? Was this really the best her pain addled brain could conjure up to motivate her?

“I see.” Mar-vell nodded grimly. “That bad.”

Carol’s laugh faded and she closed her eyes momentarily. “I messed up.”

“Did you? When?”

Carol looked up at Mar-vell, giving the older Kree a wan smile. “I don’t know. Lots of small things. Is this where I confess my sins before judgement? If so, it might take a while.”

“Don’t be silly. Listen,” Marvel stepped close and drew Carol up by the hand. “No one is fully in control.  _ No one  _ . Not even you.”

“Control,” Carol choked on the word and tears burned her eyes. 

“Come here,” Mar-vell said gently, holding her arms out in an offered embrace. Carol stepped into it, and for a hallucination, it felt surprisingly solid. “You might die. You might live. I neither can nor am I allowed to tell you either way. That’s not why I’m here.”

Carol lost what little control she had left over her tears, and she blubbered, “But… I… everyone... “

Mar-vell shushed her. “If there’s anything my life and death have shown me, Ace, it’s that you never know what will be the true result of your actions. A success might prove fatal, a mistake can be what saves you. Never blame yourself for doing what you thought was right. No one can demand more.”

Tears now streamed freely from Carol, but she let them fall, crying on her mentor’s shoulder. Gradually, she felt herself become heavier.

“No,” She tried to grasp Mar-vell to prevent herself from falling.

“Let go,” Mar-vell smiled. “It would seem you aren’t quite done, after all.”

Carol looked down at the ground, swallowed, then nodded. She’d fallen from the sky before, she could do so again. “Okay.” 

She let go. Wisps of clouds swished past and the rush of air became a roar in her ears. The ground approached, faster and faster. 

She landed hard and immediately cried out. The pain was all encompassing. Her entire body cramped as if boiling water had replaced her blood. There was no relief. She screamed again, as that was the only outlet available to her in her shackled, tortured state. 

Around her, everything was chaos. People were moving, shouting, desperately flicking over images and data on consoles all over the bridge. Someone gripped her chin, tilting her face up. Vorik. Carol wanted to murder him. 

“Don’t touch me!” she snarled and aimed a hit at him with her head. He evaded her clumsy attack with ease. That’s when she saw a syringe in his hand. “What was that?”

“Adrenaline,” he said flatly. “You-” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Your heart… stopped.”

“You almost killed me, you mean,” she raged.

He looked over his shoulder, seeming alarmed. 

“What is going on?” Carol demanded.

Before Vorik or anyone else could answer, there was an explosion, followed by even more shouts and actual panic among the crew. Above the chaos, Veranke bellowed orders, and then the bridge began evacuating. It was too late, because a moment later, the front shield shattered in a roar of quickly disappearing atmosphere and additional ear deafening crashes. Carol’s suit automatically sealed shut, and she saw that Vorik’s did the same as he held fast in some metal bars along the wall of the pit. Most of the bridge crew were not so lucky, and were sucked out into space, arms and legs flailing, their screams soundless.

Space vacuum descended on the bridge and Carol could only hear her rapid breathing and racing heart while trying to understand what had just happened. The floor vibrated as something dark and heavy landed inside the bridge. The dark form unfurled itself in the form of a very tall, very massive, hooded man, silhouetted against Hala’s bright shields far below. The man lifted his only weapon; a hammer.

Oh... shit. Carol gulped. And here she had thought things couldn't get any worse.

The comm on her suit came to life, as it recognized the frequency used in the Kree army.

“My weapon,” Ronan the Accuser all but crooned as he neared the pit, leisurely jumping down to her level. An atmospheric shield covered his skin in a blue sheen but did not obscure the greedy glint in his eyes. His hammer staff sparkled with purple energy as it activated and he raised it in threat. Vorik retreated, falling to his back as he stumbled over some cables.

Carol recoiled, her shackles straining as she tried to get away from the approaching giant of a Kree. The Accuser threw a disinterested glance at Vorik, then closed the distance between himself and Carol with three swift strides.

“Let me help you with those,” Ronan said, grabbing her bound arms. Carol felt a chill of dread. She was weak and spent and he was impossibly powerful, likely the strongest Kree warrior alive. With effortless ease, he forced the clasps open.

Unable to keep herself upright, Carol fell down on all fours. She made a useless attempt to summon her power, but the pain was so overwhelming she nearly fainted and black spots danced across her vision for moments after.

Ronan was in no rush. Looking as if he had all the time in the world, he watched the machine that Carol had been tied to. “How crude,” the Accuser stated with obvious distaste. “I had hoped for something more… useful.”

Carol began to crawl, or rather drag herself, away from him. He looked almost bored as he closed the small distance in one stride, bent down to grab her… and was flung into the wall. 

In his stead now stood Veranke, wielding a pair of glowing rods - the kind of long shock batons favoured as a melee weapon by most Skrulls. Her armor’s atmospheric seal protected her from the vacuum, coating her skin in a brass glow. She cast one look at Carol and made a nodding motion at Vorik, mouth moving as she said something to him over their comm.

It took only seconds for Ronan to recover and one moment later the two warriors clashed in a brutal combat. It immediately became clear that Veranke could not win. The power of Accuser’s blocks alone was enough to toss Veranke into the walls like she was nothing. But Carol had to hand it to Veranke. The Skrull warrior deftly used her weapons to strike Ronan in places where the bursts of painful energy would impair his movement.

Carol made an attempt to stand up but wobbled and almost fell, when Vorik caught her by the armpits, pulling her backwards. They had no way of speaking to each other but she understood his meaning well enough and had to agree; getting away from Ronan  _ was  _ a priority at the moment. While Veranke’s futile struggle bought them some time, Vorik helped her climb down into a floor hatch. A rush of air revealed that there was pressure inside. Vorik got in beside her and closed the lid. Atmospheric pressure returned a moment later and his suit's seal automatically deactivated, as did hers.

“Can you climb?” he asked. She looked down. They were in almost complete darkness but as her eyes adjusted, she saw a shaft stretching beneath them. They were standing on a grated ledge. Beside them was a ladder that continued downwards. 

Carol flexed her hands and arms. She already felt a little stronger. Her limbs still hurt badly, but at least they obeyed. “I think so.”

“Don’t use your powers,” Vorik warned.

She shot him a murderous glare, and hissed, “Thanks. You’re too kind.”

He sighed, but swung down the ladder and began descending. She followed. “Where are we going?”

“We need to get out of here.”

“Oh, really?” 

Another sigh. “Your ship, the Aegis, is still in the hangar. We can use it to escape.”

Carol took a firm hold on the bars, swung around and slid down to hang opposite to Vorik. She grabbed his collar and pulled him hard against the ladder, locking him in place. “Enough with the orders. I’m in charge from now on.” She gave him a hard jank, beating his face against the bars. Powers or not, she was a warrior and Vorik was not.

He grimaced, hissing through the pain. “This is not the time…”

“Oh, this  _ is  _ the time. You threatened my home, betrayed my friends, and tortured me with that machine of yours to power your weapon. You owe me answers,  _ now  _ .”

“Can we just… get some place less… volatile, before starting a fight?”

She looked around. “What do you mean?”

“We’re inside Mar-vell’s power converter. Veranke will attempt to fire the photon cannon as soon as she can get away from the Accuser. If we’re still here when that happens, we’ll be... more than a little crispy.”

Fair point. “Okay. No tricks. I warn you.”

He nodded and continued climbing. They eventually reached the bottom and another hatch led them to a pitch black maintenance shaft, so tight they had to crawl through it. She could do nothing but follow; Vorik knew his ships like his own palm. He could lead her into a trap, but she lacked other options. If they could get to the Aegis, at least there was a small chance she’d get out of here.

Eventually, Vorik opened a hatch leading down, peered outside, and swung himself down. “It’s clear,” he said quietly, and Carol followed. 

They stood in an empty, narrow hallway, innumerable doors lining the walls. “Where are we?” she asked.

“Storage.” He began reading the labels on the walls, following them as if looking for something. She followed apprehensively. Eventually, Vorik stopped. “Here,” he said, opened the door and stepped inside. Carol remained in the doorway. It was a narrow room with drawers along the walls. Vorik went through a number of them, finding two syringes, a tube of something and a bandage. 

She watched in confusion. “What’s that for?”

“You. Come. Close the door.”

She did. Something about the grim resolve on his face made her temporarily forget that she had intended to beat him into pulp as soon as an opportunity emerged.

“Remember what I said about working in my mother’s clinic?” He lifted the syringe. “This is extaphol. It will help with your internal injuries. And this,” he lifted another, “is a painkiller. I still advise you don’t use any powers but if there’s no other choice, this might prevent you from passing out again. Also -” he held out two rolls of some thin stretchy gray material and a small tube. “Gel and wraps. For the burns.”

“Burns?”

He looked away, as if ashamed. “Under your suit.”

She stared incredulously at him. “Let me get this straight: You built…”

“Actually, Mar-vell...”

She held up a hand to silence him. “Whatever! A hellish machine that renders me helpless and uses my power in a way that nearly kills me, and now you want to  _ help  _ me? After you betrayed Talos, and left Soren to be taken by the Kree? Excuse me if I’m not buying this remorseful bullshit.”

“I’m not remorseful,” he ground out. “I’d do it all again if it helped us win this war. As for Talos and Soren…” Despite himself, he actually seemed remorseful now. “I didn’t want to have to hurt them. I did what I could to keep them out of this.”

“Then why are you helping me now? Why not just run and get yourself to safety?”

“Because… you are important. I didn’t want to put you through another charge, because I was worried that…”

“That I would  _ die  _ ? Well that’s sweet and all. How about the hundreds left on  _ Soren  _ ? How about  _ them  _ , Vorik?”

He fell silent a moment, then confessed, “I didn’t give  _ Soren’s  _ location to my sister.”

Carol felt her expression fall. “W- what?”

Vorik hesitated, looking like he was considering what he should tell her and not. His face displayed a war of loyalties she had not seen there earlier. “I suspected she’d do something like that. I knew that giving the Kree false intel would mean our agents were as good as dead but if it saved everyone on the planet...” He shrugged. “It seemed the right thing to do.”

“So…” Carol let out a breath, hardly daring to feel relief. “The planet… the settlers… Talos and Soren’s daughter…”

“Are safe,” he concluded. “I offered a location to a mining outpost that I knew of. It was abandoned years ago, but the Kree might think it probable that we’d attempt to use it.” 

Carol closed her eyes and leaned back, resting her head against a shelf. Her intentions still warred between trusting Vorik to help her, or to just beat him senseless and leave him for Ronan to find, but right now all she felt was relief.

“Now… will you let me help you?” he asked intently, holding up the medical supplies. “You have to survive, Carol.” 

Her eyes snapped open. “And I take it, by ‘me’, you mean ‘us’?” When he didn’t respond, she decided it didn’t matter. She stood no chance against Ronan in her current state. And if he was at all interested in saving his own life he would want to help her, too. So she nodded, accepting his offer of truce. “Do what you can.”

***

Talos woke and immediately turned to look at his mate. Soren, exhausted from her ordeal, was still fast asleep. He absently stroked her cheek, smiling as she wrinkled her nose and stirred in her sleep. He should let her be, but gods help him, it was hard.

Knowing he wouldn’t fall asleep again, he got out of bed and swifty clothed. It was night cycle on the Mar-vell as well as Fury's base on Earth, but Talos's sleeping routine was in shambles. He walked through the dimly lit main hallway, leading all the way from the bridge to the aft observation deck. He made a turn towards lower control deck, where Mav had his newly set up monitoring station, gathering intel and - more importantly - searching for the Skrull agents hiding on Earth via their encrypted transmissions.

Talos rounded the last corner and immediately stopped dead in his tracks.

Half sitting on one of the tables littered with gear was Mav, his back turned to Talos. But he was not alone. Wound around the hacker’s neck were a set of blue arms belonging to a short, broad-shouldered Kree. Were they… kissing?

For a moment, Talos stood frozen, until the passionate encounter he had inadvertently snuck up on made some of the equipment clatter to the floor. Backing away quickly, Talos prayed he hadn’t been spotted. He felt… he didn’t know what it was. Shock perhaps. Blue and green skin was a sight he associated with the aftermath of combat only, not… this.

And what the hell was a Kree even doing on the Mar-vell? Knowing the person who might have an answer for him, Talos stalked up the hallway again until he reached the bridge. Slouched in the captain’s chair with her legs on the panel and busy disassembling a blaster, was Tank. 

“Captain,” Talos greeted her tersely. 

Tank leaned her head back and grinned, ignoring his tone. “Majesty.”

“Care to tell me what a Kree is doing on board the Mar-vell?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You ran into Jorias, I take it?"

“Ran into…” Talos grumbled ironically. “You might say that. He and Mav were, er…”

“Making out?” She shrugged and added adoringly with an eye roll, "I'm just saying, those two..!"

He grit his teeth, biting back the first words that came to his mind. Compromising the mission. Fraternization with the enemy.

At his expression, Tank drew herself up, looking at him in pure bafflement. “Talos,” she said with almost maternal sternness. “What are you-”

“You can’t recruit a Kree to a Skrull ship,” he said, trying to sound reasonable. 

His newly appointed Captain blinked, then her face hardened, lips setting in a firm line. Pointedly looking away from him, she lifted the barrel and began cleaning it. “What is your problem, Talos?” 

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, suddenly having trouble finding words. He hadn’t thought that far as he rushed here to tell her to... do what? Jorias was clearly dear to Tank and her companions. Of course she wouldn’t leave him behind in Exitar as the Kree scoured Knowhere for any sign of Skrull sympathizers. Jorias, who was already marked as a traitor by his own nation because he had tried to free his now dead husband.

Talos’s initial outrage evaporated. “I… I was just surprised. That’s all.”

She gave him a knowing look that made him feel like a complete fool. “You know,” she mused while dripping some cleaning liquid in the ignition chamber, eying him through its opening, “when I met you in Exitar, I was at the point of giving up.”

He nodded. That much had been clear back then. “I remember.”

“It has changed now though,” she continued, and began clicking the pieces of the blaster together with deft hands. “The elders aren't complete idiots, it turns out. I think we might actually stand a chance.”

“Against the Kree?”

She looked seriously at him, holding the now cleaned and assembled blaster in her lap. “And ourselves."

Talos swallowed. Tank was not one for solemn talk, but it was clear she intended to bestow some of her rare moments of wisdom on him right now. “Is that your way of telling me I’m a narrow-minded, backward-thinking old man?”

His self-reproach instantly brought a smile to her face. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

He grunted. 

“Exile,” she told him, “if you can call it that, has taught me a lot of things. The foremost being that we are not the only ones suffering because of the Kree. And shockingly-” She made it sound as if the next bit of information was obvious. “-The ones that suffer the most right now might actually be the Kree themselves. The Empire is a shitty, shitty place to live at the moment, Talos. The Accusers have completely free rein to hunt down, execute or punish people in even worse ways. It’s a rule of terror.”

“They  _ have  _ an Emperor,” he objected, but knew as well as Tank that the supposed constitutional ruler of the Empire had not made an effective decision in decades. 

Tank looked out the front shield at the patterns of lights spotting the shaded side of Earth. “Veranke was right about one thing, at least. We need to look for allies where we can find them.”

“Are you asking me to make alliances?”

She looked firmly at him, not a hint of sarcasm or humor in her voice. “I’m asking you to stop  _ reacting  _ and come up with a bloody plan.”

Was he just reacting? Talos had asked for a Vote because he wanted to save Soren. That had been the only thing on his mind as far as he could tell, but what now? He would hunt down Veranke, naturally, and help Carol. But then what?

Before he could come up with a reply, a light and a blip on the instruments made Tank spin the chair around.

"A hail?" She brought up the signal code, and then her jaw dropped. “What do you know? It’s the Kree Commander.” Then she added with contented smirk, “Now  _ that’s  _ one I wouldn’t mind-”

Talos cleared his throat. “Are we cloaked?”

She grinned. “Of course.”

“Good.” He began walking toward the door, thinking fast. “Wake up the rest of the crew and make the Mar-vell ready to leave at any moment.”

“What are you going to do?”

Talos had a few guesses already as to what Yon-rogg was doing back here again. But they all connected to the single factor tying the two of them together; Carol.

He replied shrewdly, “Talk to him, of course."

Tank brightened. “Can I come?”

He let an exasperated breath. Trust Tank to flirt with your mortal enemy. “ _ No  _ .” 

***

Saying that the atmosphere in the hangar was tense was probably an understatement. As the three Kree stepped out of their small ship, every Skrull soldier surrounding Talos clenched their hands on their weapons and twitched nervously at every move the arrivals made.

As agreed, Yon-rogg disarmed himself, handing his knife and blaster over to a small woman in his team. He then turned to Talos. 

“We don’t have much time.” Yon-rogg spoke with urgency, his posture tense with impatience. 

Interesting, Talos noted. The man before him was a far cry from the snarling, impudent enemy he had traded his wife for less than an Earth day ago. This was a man brimming with desperation, the fear of losing the woman he loved. Still, Talos eyed the Commander warily. Over the comm, they had agreed to meet face to face and negotiate terms for what Yon-rogg called a ‘trade’. Talos, on his part, knew that blindly trusting a Kree was one of the surest ways for a Skrull to end up dead. And this particular Kree had made his position regarding Talos’s people  _ very  _ clear.

Talos firmly held the Commander’s gaze as he replied, “I have no reason to trust you, Kree. One wrong move and your team is dead, but only after my soldiers take their forms and memories. Understood?"

With his mouth pressed in a hard line, Yon-rogg nodded. “Fine.”

“After you,” Talos said, gesturing towards the doors with one hand. The Kree narrowed his eyes at the blaster still at Talos’s side, but complied. He was, after all, the one that claimed they were short on time and Talos wanted to know just how far his desperation went.

When Yon-rogg had passed, Talos turned to Tank. The Captain wasn’t looking at him at all, instead her eyes trailed after the Commander, open appreciation on her face. “Captain,” Talos snapped her out of her revelry. “Watch the other two.” 

Tank smirked, but nodded. “Majesty.”

At the mention of Talos’s new title, Yon-rogg abruptly stopped and turned, seeming to notice for the first time the gold band around Talos’s head. The Kree looked confused, eyes darting between Talos, Tank and his team members.

Talos couldn't hold back a smug smirk. Wasn't expecting that, were you? Then he gestured onward. Yon-rogg still looked bewildered, but quickly composed himself and continued. As soon as they reached the command room, Talos told the two soldiers accompanying him to wait outside.

Inside, Yon-rogg strode over to the large holo table, keying in a few commands and then opening the interface on his suit’s bracer, similar to Carol’s.

“As you already know,” he opened, still fiddling with his bracer, “Veranke has forced Carol’s cooperation somehow.” 

Talos knew very well how. A combination of his and Fury’s operatives had managed to pin down a number of Veranke’s agents at this point. But Yon-rogg didn’t need to know that. 

Yon-rogg continued, “She has stolen a weapon prototype, one built by Mar-vell herself, and uses Carol to power it." He silenced, looking reluctant to say the next thing but did so anyway. "It's… very potent. They destroyed an Accuser warship."

Talos made a low sound of appreciation. Yon-rogg gave him a withering look. "And it will kill Carol, in the end. Unless the returning Accuser fleet beats them to it."

That ended Talos's brief amusement. "How long?"

The Kree checked his time-keeper. "Our window of time is three standard Kree hours. Perhaps a little more." He made a sweeping motion from his bracer and an image appeared above the table, displaying Hala. “This is the briefing data we got before our failed attempt to defend ourselves.” Yon-rogg put a clear emphasis on the verb ‘defend’.

Oh the poor Kree, suddenly experiencing what it’s like to be on the wrong side of mass destruction, Talos thought maliciously, but held his tongue, instead focusing on the image displayed. This was about saving Carol's life, he reminded himself. The Vindicator was orbiting Hala and more than a dozen throngs of smaller ships were surrounding the planet.

“These are not only Skrull ships,” Talos commented. “According to Carol, Veranke has an alliance with several occupied systems.” The choice of words was deliberate, wanting to remind the Commander that his people were not the only stakeholders in this. If the attack on Hala failed, if the insurgents were pushed back, many civilians would pay a high price.

Yon-rogg clenched his jaw. “This is not about them. They made their choice.”

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” Talos said darkly. “Makes things less complicated, at least. Easier to wash your hands of civilian blood.”

The Kree visibly bristled. “I do not support Accuser bombings but in cases where…”

“Where what?” Talos shot back, righteous fury burning in his gut. Negotiations be damned. “Where a single band of insurgents, a cell of half a dozen Skrull refugees, is cause to reduce an entire city to rubble?”

Yon-rogg flinched and paled. He then replied with deliberate care, “I didn’t say I agree with them… And I am not here to discuss the past actions of my people.” With a little more force, he added, “And trust me when I say that the Accusers are just as willing to sacrifice the lives of other Kree as any other race, if that stands between them and their goal.”

Old spite rose like bile inside Talos. “I didn’t take you for the rebellious type, Commander. Did your precious deity whip you so badly upon your return?"

The haughty defiance he’d seen during the prisoner exchange finally showed. Yon-rogg’s eyes flashed. “Are we going to discuss a joint operation to save our respective peoples, or do I have to stand here and listen to your ill informed opinions of me for much longer?”

“Very well,” Talos held his hands wide in an overly placating gesture. “Let’s discuss. I am, as of recent, the elected King of Skrullos, as you have no doubt discerned by now. That effectively means every Skrull on board that cruiser is mine to command.”

Yon-rogg nodded. “So that’s a good thing.”

“Yes, it is. But I have demands. Conditions for aiding you.”

“Such as?” Yon-rogg asked impatiently, already busy adding and updating information on the holo image.

“Veranke is to be handed over to me,  _ alive  _ . She will be judged and punished by my people, according to our law.” The old gods knew Talos was no stranger to the idea of Veranke dead for her crimes, but he would be damned if he let what passed for ‘justice’ in the Kree Empire befall even the most wretched of his people. Not if he could help it.

Yon-rogg whirled on him. “What?! She is responsible for the deaths of millions!” 

Talos retorted coolly, praying he had read his opponent correctly. “Which puts her in excellent company with your Empire’s esteemed Accusers. But I don’t hear you calling for  _ their  _ blood.”

With a look of stunned incredulity, Yon-rogg let out a breath, shaking his head. “What will happen to her?”

“That is the Council’s decision, not mine. But we do not practice death penalty.” There are too few of us left, he added silently.

To his surprised relief, and despite looking utterly miserable about making such a concession, Yon-rogg nodded. “Anything else?”

“Yes. I will be leading the operation. Kree and Skrull both.”

“That is hardly appropriate, I am Commander of Starfo…”

Talos cut him off forcefully. “And I am  _ King  _ . I will gladly listen to your advice,  _ Commander  _ .”

Yon-rogg glared and Talos could practically see the Kree’s mind working. So what? Had he expected Talos to tag along with whatever plan and orders he had come up with? Apparently so, because a moment later, Yon-rogg returned, “ _ I  _ already have a plan.  _ I  _ know what we’ll face…”

“Which is why you’ll be on the team. Just not in charge.” Talos said smoothly.

Before Yon-rogg could offer another retort, the door opened, revealing Soren, followed by Tank and the other two Kree from Yon-rogg’s team. Soren looked between Yon-rogg and Talos with a neutral expression as she made her way to the holo table, crossing her arms as she stopped in front of it. Her eyes landed hard on Talos and despite her cool exterior, he recognized the fire there.

“Soren…” Talos began weakly, realizing his mistake in leaving her out of the loop. Again.

“Tank sent Meret to wake me,” Soren informed, giving him a look that was somehow affectionate and scolding at the same time. She swiftly looked over the hologram. “This is Hala? Excellent. Ta-rinn, Att-lass, come show us what you were talking about before.”

The two Kree came to the holo table, positioning themselves on each side of Soren. Tank came up to stand by Talos’s side. 

He hissed quietly, “I told you to watch them.”

“Am I not?” Tank shrugged. “Don’t look so offended. This pissing contest between you and the Commander wasn’t going to save anyone, so I figured it was a good idea to bring along some people that already trust each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she whispered patiently. “If you  _ had  _ bothered to ask, you’d know that these two,” she nodded at the newly arrived Kree, “are Ta-rinn and Att-lass.”

Realization dawned on Talos and his mouth fell open momentarily. “That’s… quite a coincidence.”

“Not at all. They left their fleet upon threat of being executed as traitors and deserters.” She raised her eyebrows at his confusion. “Didn’t know that either? Thought so. Now shut up and let them talk, we can decide who is in charge of what after we have a plan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you that have been along for the ride since the beginning might be surprised by the appearance of Mar-vell in this chapter. I have made a very significant change to chapter 5 since a couple of months back, as the original version of that chapter didn't sit quite well with me after I got a better feel for what arc I wanted for Carol and the other characters. So, if you check it out (it's much shorter now than the first version), it will make a lot more sense. :)
> 
> Another change that's been added, though it's a small one, is that I've given Vorik a brief description as being "tall and lanky", in chapter 2 where he makes his first, subtle appearance.
> 
> I was glad to realize I could use Jorias and Mav's relationship in this chapter. I had always intended for them to be a couple, but more as 'background fluff' and just have a mention of it somewhere, but this way their cross-species love becomes more significant to the story. 💚💙


	21. Snare

When Hala came into Yon-rogg’s view for the second time during a day that seemed to have no end, he began to fear they might be too late. Even from an orbital view, he could tell that the planetary shields were in tatters. The central capital still held, as it had ground-based, nearly indestructible shield generators that would not be possible to bombard from space. But against the weapon that had ripped the Silver Aster apart, Yon-rogg suspected even that protection would not be enough. But why hadn’t Veranke used it already? He feared the answer to that question almost more than he feared the use of the weapon itself.

He took another step, searching for purchase on the too-even surface of the ship’s hull. Their plan was hastily put together and dangerously reckless. And as if that wasn’t enough, it also involved him teaming up with his former captor. 

Talos. He looked over his shoulder at where the Skrull King was making his way over the Vindicator’s hull, the two of them tied together with an anchor line. Yon-rogg was the fastest, able to use his magnitron gauntlets for purchase on the precarious climb, as the cruisers’ artificial gravity pulled on them on occasion. The line suddenly pulled taut between them. Yon-rogg grunted and steadied himself, giving Talos support as he made his way over a ledge.

Their goal was a maintenance airlock just above the bridge. They would throw a bunch of shock grenades inside, clear the bridge and take control of the ship. And save Carol, who, according to a reluctant Jagun, would be on the bridge.

Meeting the former Skrull prisoner had been… uncomfortable, he admitted. The look the now unrecognizable ex-prisoner gave him, along with the horrific injuries visible on his face and hands, had made Yon-rogg briefly wish he could flee the room. Because it hadn’t been a look of hatred, but one of vindication.  _ Look at me. Do you see what your Empire is really about?  _

Despite his unwillingness, in the end, Jagun had agreed to help them. Not because his opinions or loyalties had shifted, but because like Talos, Veranke’s broken captain wanted to bring his people home, to lend them a chance to fight another day.

_ He commanded the ship that spread the droc virus,  _ Yon reminded himself even now. If anything, he should be glad for the graphic evidence of retribution against such a monster.

Talos appeared over the ledge and the gravity that had held him down released its hold, the rope falling slack between them. _ “Not much further now,” _ Talos said through the comm. They both looked around, wary of any sign that they might have been spotted, but all was calm. Strangely so. After dropping the two of them on the shaded side of the Nemesis, the Mar-vell had moved to align its main airlock with the Vindicator’s hangar. Any time now, the cruiser would uncloak and Ta-rinn, Att-lass, Tank and a team of Skrull soldiers would enter to create a diversion, in a slim hope that the distraction would allow a swift takeover of the bridge by their reluctant two-man team. It was paramount that they succeeded.

They traversed the undulating surface of the hull for another few minutes, until they could finally peer over a ledge to see the front shield. Or what should have been. Covering the front shield was the set of thick, metal coverings that typically engaged as extra protection against explosions. Or in case the shield had been shattered.

Just then, their comms came live. _ “Entering now,” _ Tank’s voice reported.  _ “No welcoming committee. Strange. They should have seen us by now. What’s your status?” _

_ “Almost at the airlock,”  _ Talos replied.

_ “Alrighty then, time to start the fireworks,”  _ Tank replied as casually as if no risk at all was involved with said action.

Something flashed above their heads and they turned in unison to see a silver-gray Kree battle cruiser, twice the size of the Mar-vell, emerge from Hala’s jump point. The Nemesis. 

“What?” Yon-rogg startled. 

He had no more time to voice his surprise, before Talos pushed him hard in the chest. As he staggered back, careful to steady himself with the treacherous near zero-gravity foothold, Talos glared back at him, rage burning in the Skrull’s eyes.

“What are you doing?!” Yon-rogg yelled in the comm while just barely curbing his immediate reflex to return the attack. Not only was it a waste of time to start a fight, it was _dangerous_ ; a lost foothold meant they would likely not be able to make it back. Unless they were spotted and shot first.

But Talos wasn’t looking at him any more, instead he engaged the comm to the Mar-vell, now commanded by his wife,  _ “Soren.” _

_ “I see them,”  _ she replied tightly on the open channel.  _ “We can still pick you up. Give us a minute.” _

Talos shook his head, and there was clear anguish but no hesitation as he countered, _ “No, remember what we agreed on. You go, now.” _

Yon-rogg saw the Mar-vell break off from the Vindicator, and accelerate toward the jump point. It seemed Soren had switched to another channel now, speaking to Talos only. 

Talos voice tense but sure. The voice a commander used when invoking a confidence they didn’t really feel.  _ “It will work. If anyone can do this, it is you.”  _ What in the name of the Collective was going on? Yon-rogg was profoundly confused. Talos assured Soren,  _ “Me too. Now go. I’ve got this.” _

That ended the call. And Talos lunged at him.

Yon-rogg stepped back, deflecting the other man’s punch. He bristled. “Are you mad?! We’re in space!”

Ignoring caution, Talos reached for the anchor line and gave it a hard jank, sending Yon-rogg tumbling past across the hull. Yon-rogg barely managed to get a handhold, and as he pulled himself up on one knee, he was met by the barrel of Talos’s blaster.

_ “Tell me,”  _ Talos threatened, his voice cold. _ “Why should I not shoot you, right here?” _

Yon-rogg glowered, pointing at the distant Kree battle cruiser. “I am not behind  _ that _ , if that’s what you're thinking.“

_ “Then how convenient they show up just now.”  _ Talos hissed.

Talos was not wrong, Yon-rogg realized as the sick, giddy feeling of a fatal miscalculation grew in him. Starforce had been _allowed_ to leave. Had he truly thought it was On-sar’s heart, bleeding for a son she barely knew, that had bought them their escape? Or was he simply a pawn sent away on a risky venture to either be sacrificed - or return with the prize the Supremor most desired: The Skrull leadership, along with Carol, caught with Kree blood on their hands.

He could ignite his gauntlet, throw Talos off the hull and save himself. But he was past that now and all he felt was how tired he was. Tired of being pushed around like a pawn, tired of not knowing who and what to trust in a life that just rendered him more lost with every turn.

“Perhaps you should shoot me,” he said tonelessly. ”It would seem you have cause.”

Maybe the feelings in his chest showed on his face, because Talos lowered the blaster.  _ “They used you,”  _ the Skrull stated grimly. _ “They knew you’d try to find Carol’s allies.” _

“Yes,” Yon-rogg choked out, his gaze falling. He had no doubt Talos' conclusion was completely accurate and it shamed him to have been so naive, so quick to believe that the Supremor would truly welcome him back despite the simmering doubt in his heart. Doubt that had boiled over into outright defiance on so many occasions at this point.

_ “And you had no idea they would be waiting for us?” _

He looked up at Talos with disbelief. “Would I be  _ here  _ if I had?” Then he added, quieter, “Would I risk Carol like that?”

Talos looked intently at him for another moment, then conceded,  _ “No. You wouldn’t.” _ The Skrull took a step back, holstering his blaster. _ “I… I believe you.” _

“Thank you,” Yon-rogg replied, suddenly moved for reasons he at first didn’t understand. Then it dawned on him; Talos didn't  _ know _ he could trust him. He  _ believed _ that he could - without theft of memories or intrusive control to wring out his deepest secrets or hidden motives. Swallowing a sudden tightness in his throat, Yon-rogg chose that moment to snap back into action. They still had a mission, and people that depended on them. “Let’s move. The airlock should be just ahead.”

With a tight nod, the King of Skrullos turned and began walking.

They reached the hatch and Yon-rogg attached the override that Mav had made for them. A panel slid aside, revealing a handle. They opened the hatch, went inside and the lid shut above them. A moment later, the compartment they were in pressurized and their seals deactivated. They shared a look of apprehension. Right below them was the bridge. 

“Tank,” Talos hailed his Captain. There was no reply. “Tank!” he tried again. Still no reply. 

Yon-rogg tried to call Ta-rinn and Att-lass respectively, but got no reply from either.

Their eyes met in acknowledgement, their expressions a grim mirror of the other. Even if the attack in the hangar was over and their friends dead or incapacitated, they might still have a chance at taking the bridge. 

Talos was apparently thinking the same. “Ready?” the Skrull asked.

Yon-rogg already had two grenades in one hand, blaster in the other, and nodded. As soon as Talos opened the inner hatch, Yon-rogg threw the shock grenades. They exploded a moment later, and they both crept through, landing on a grate catwalk above the cruiser’s main controls. Both of them gaped in surprise as they surveyed the Vindicator’s bridge.

It was completely empty. A broken control panel on the far side sent the occasional spark that lit up the room, but other than that the lighting was a low, eerie green. The floor and walls were littered with scorch-marks, broken off bits of steel and carbon composite, deep dents and holes. Clearly, a brutal fight had taken place. Had Carol fought her way out somehow? Yon-rogg wondered, a little hope sparking in his chest.

As there seemed to be no point in hiding, Yon-rogg jumped down and Talos followed. 

“I’ll get us moving,” Talos announced, and walked to the controls, activating several holographic displays with practiced movements. 

Yon-rogg looked over the battered bridge. It didn’t take long to spot the place Carol had once been shackled. With his heart in his throat, he ventured down to the lower section where she’d been bound, studying the restraints now hanging loose from some kind of metal contraption, thick wires leading to an even stranger creation looking like some kind of half finished prototype.  _ What have they done to you?  _ he thought with growing dread.

Then he saw the body and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. But almost immediately, he realized it wasn’t Carol. This was - and he drew back on reflex - Veranke! She lay on her side, eyes closed, the barest movement of her chest the only sign she was alive. She was badly battered, her uniform full of dents and deformations from where it had been bludgeoned. 

He clutched the blaster hard, regretting with every fiber of his being his promise to hand over Veranke alive to Talos. He  _ could  _ shoot her, claim that she was already dead and that he’d done it for good measure. It would not be dignified or smart but it would  _ feel _ good. 

Cursing internally, he lowered his blaster. “Look, Talos. It’s Veranke. Still alive. She might be able to tell us what happened.”

Together, they lifted Veranke from the pit and lay her on the floor in front of the main control board. She groaned and stirred and opened her eyes a sliver. At first, she merely looked startled, then disbelieving, and finally - resentful. 

“What happened?” Talos demanded.

Veranke looked between the two of them, then rolled to her side and coughed up a mouthful of blood. She remained so, looking away from what Yon-rogg assumed was an impossible situation. Her voice was a mere croak. 

“So you’re allied with the Kree now? Figures,” she muttered. She then looked at Yon-rogg as if trying to understand how he was here, her voice a bitter snarl. “I shot you point blank.  _ What _ kills you?”

“Early mornings,” he shot back acidly. 

“What happened here?” Talos repeated, dragging them back to focus.

“You don’t know?” she scoffed weakly. “It was that Accuser. Ronan. They must have taken the entire ship by now, he and his enforcers. Entered through the front shield, viewports, hangar - everywhere. We never had a chance.”

“We saw nothing outside,” Yon-rogg pondered, trying to fit the information together with what he had seen and heard of the previous battle, but found that it made no sense, unless.. he grew cold again.  _ Unless  _ he had been made to think the situation was more hopeless than it really was. To push him to act, to flush out Carol’s allies.

“Your friend looks like he has something to say,” Veranke pointed out. 

“The Commander and I have an understanding,” Talos replied surely, not taking the bait. “Where’s Carol?”

“Vorik’s got her,” Veranke admitted. “He’s going to try to get her out of here, is my guess. He always went on and on about how we had to make sure she got out of this alive. The weepy fool.” Another painful cough whacked her body. 

Now Yon-rogg really wanted to shoot her, but instead asked, “Where would he take her?”

Looking like she didn’t particularly care, she answered, “My guess is the hangar, and that fancy ship of yours. They have probably already run into Ronan’s enforcers.”

Yon-rogg rose before she had finished the sentence. “I’ll go.”

It was the sensible option and Talos would know it too. Getting the Vindicator away from Hala and the incoming Accuser fleet remained a priority, regardless what enemy deadweight they brought with them. 

Talos rose too and they locked eyes for the fraction of a second, but enough to confirm agreement. Then Yon-rogg ran, praying to his every ancestor that he wasn’t too late. 

***

“Shit,” Carol muttered as she very nearly made a wrong turn straight into a throng of Kree enforcers. She shuffled backwards, pushing Vorik with her into the hatch they’d just come out from. There were at least three teams, she’d counted as they very slowly made their way towards the hangar, all armed to the teeth and well coordinated. 

The Accusers’ enforcers were ill thought of, even among the Kree, as being particularly ruthless, much like their accompanying warships preferring too much to too little force. The result spoke for itself. Scores upon scores of Skrull soldiers, all dead by clean shots to the head, filled the halls.

Once the hatch was closed, Carol turned to her doubtful ally. “A team’s just outside. We have to wait for them to pass.” It grated her to a maddening degree that she couldn’t use her powers as she pleased. 

As if knowing exactly what was on her mind, Vorik cautioned, “Don’t use your powers.”

“You said I could in an emergency.”

“Then wait until there is one.”

Sighing, she leaned against the wall in the tight space, eying him suspiciously in the narrow ray of light spilling in. “Were you a mole from the start?” she asked.

Vorik looked confused. “What is a ‘mole’?”

“I mean, were you a spy all the time?”

“Yes.”

There was a brief silence, and suddenly a whole bunch of questions came to her mind. “So… when you said the Mar-vell needed extra parts, you deliberately chose parts you knew we could only find on Knowhere? Because you had a meeting with Veranke there, or…” More pieces began to click together and she gaped. “The battery!"

Vorik suddenly looked exhausted, as if her questions reminded him of how many years of work had just blown up in his face. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you, all things considered.” He straightened a bit, looking more assertive now. “I was negotiating a deal to buy the photon accumulator from the Collector. I don’t know how he got his hands on it, but a lot of items from Pallakor were spirited away in different directions during the first years. Neither my father nor his accomplices knew anything about it then, and it was a way to make money for their research.”

“Research? You mean… the droc virus?” When he didn’t deny it, she recoiled, appalled. 

He continued, unmoved by her reaction, “As I stood there waiting, suddenly the Collector returned to us, saying that  _ you _ were in the Museum, offering your power. Naturally, I asked for his price. Fortunately, we were able to comply quite easily with his wishes. He is a collector, after all, and we were in the possession of something completely unique.” Vorik said the last words with accentuated meaning.

_ Something completely unique.  _ A chill went through her. “A droc,” she breathed. “You gave him a droc?!”

Seemingly untroubled, Vorik explained with ease, “A dose of the virus, to be specific. I heard he planned to use it on an unfortunate Kree in his custody, it seemed he thought it a suitable way for them to repay a considerable debt." At her aghast expression, he belittled, "Oh, come on! It’s hardly the most dangerous specimen he has in his collection, or are you  _ that _ naive?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head back against the wall.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he consoled insincerely, “It would have made a minimal difference. It was a good test run, and to be sure, without it, I might have tried something similar for starters. And you got a planet for the effort.”

Veranke was right; her brother  _ was  _ a chatterbox. Carol muttered a few choice expletives but opted for not retorting, lest she might spur him on for another ghastly exposition. She listened for sounds from the outside, and it seemed that the enforcers were all far away. “We should move.”

He filed in behind her. “Across this hallway is another hatch. We climb down a ladder and then we’re on top of the hangar.”

“Great,” she muttered, wishing only for him to shut up.

Just as Vorik had said, at the bottom of the shaft was a hatch to a narrow walkway skirting the hangar ceiling. Carol got out first, and immediately stopped at the sight of the scene below.

There was the Aegis, exactly where she and Yon-rogg had landed it. Another, smaller ship that had been there before too was also here. And in the middle of the wide hall was a small group of people, Skrull and Kree mixed, kneeling with their hands bound. There were a few bodies, too, Skrulls only. With shock and surprise, Carol recognized the two Kree.

Forgetting her wits, Carol called out, “Att-lass! Ta-rinn!”

From the hatch, Vorik hissed a warning, but she didn’t care for his opinion anymore. She threw herself over the railing, landing hard but managing fine thanks to her Kree physique. At the same time she began running towards the group, Att-lass shouted a warning, 

“Carol, don’t! It’s you they’re after!”

Too late. Ronan stepped out from where he’d been standing behind the Aegis. Behind him was Korath and another enforcer team. Carol skidded to a halt, alarm spiking through her body, making her dumb. She summoned her powers, throwing herself and them at Ronan in one, furious flurry of movement. The Accuser was thrown backwards, sliding across the floor to the opposite wall. Carol stood over him, pushing her power into one glowing fist. Already, her body trembled with the effort, but she forced herself to look as strong as ever. 

“Release them,” she threatened, but then her body failed her. Cursing as she swayed, the glow dissipated from her hand at the same time that a leering Ronan grabbed her by the collar with unhurried ease, lifting her into the air like a kitten. 

“Almost too easy,” the giant Kree hummed with a small, satisfied grin.

Carol snarled and aimed a kick at his throat. She might not have her powers at the ready, but she was a trained Starforce operative, she told herself. Ronan gave her a brusque shake and she reeled, at the same time feeling the numb tingle of the anaesthetic fade out into actual pain in her limbs. Seeing her weaken, the Accuser opted for setting her down on the floor again, dragging her with him to the rest of the captives. 

Collapsing in a pile beside her friend, Carol looked up at Att-lass. He looked downcast, as did Ta-rinn. All the Skrulls did as well, save one. Short in stature but impressively vicious, she aimed barbed words and attacks whenever she could, until eventually, Korath stepped forward and hit her hard with the hilt of one of his swords, knocking her unconscious. 

“What are they waiting for?” Carol asked Att-lass in a hushed voice.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “They were expecting us, hiding on the Aegis and the other ship. We didn’t have a chance.”

Korath looked up from where he had taken a closer look at the Skrull he’d knocked out. “I recognize this one, Accuser. There’s a bounty on it. Quite the troublemaker.”

“Excellent,” Ronan stated coolly, resting the hammer hilt on the floor, as if waiting. “That’s one less expense for the Empire.”

“Who is she?” Carol whispered to Att-lass. 

“Tank,” he said low. “She is Captain under…” he lowered his voice to an absolute minimum. “Talos.”

Carol drew in a breath, but forced herself to swallow the many following questions. If Talos was here, it would do no good to let Ronan know it, whatever or whoever their captor was waiting for.

“But what about you two?” She looked between Att-lass and Ta-rinn. “What are  _ you _ doing here?”

Before Att-lass could answer, everyone’s attention snapped to the hangar entrance, where a ship broke through the energy field. The engine roar subsided, the landing ramp descended, and out stepped Admiral On-sar, followed by at least two dozen warriors, rounding both the captives and the Kree enforcers.

Att-lass eyes widened and he flushed, eventually dropping his gaze to the floor. Carol wanted to ask more things of him, but On-sar spoke before anyone else could. 

“As you all can see, you have lost,” the Kree Admiral said sternly, her voice carrying across the hangar. “This cruel, cowardly attack on our homeworld ends now.”

Carol instantly drew up. “Admiral!” She called out, struggling to her feet. “These Skrulls have nothing to do with it. They came here to save me!"

On-sar’s eyes flashed to hers, hard and cold. “And you, Captain Danvers? What is your part in this?”

“I…” she thought fast but decided that the truth was her best option. “I was forced. Veranke threatened my home world and made me help her, after she...” Carol’s voice lost its bearing and she swallowed. "After she killed Yon-rogg."

There was a confused silence, where On-sar looked contemplatively at Carol, who suddenly felt uncomfortably exposed. On-sar and Ronan then shared a look.

"Bring him in," Ronan ordered, and the doors opened.

Another enforcer team entered and in their midst walked the one person Carol had been certain she'd never see again.

“Yon!” She blurted the name, the intimate, shortened version, so many emotions tumbling through her chest she felt like she could tear apart. She didn’t care that her voice wobbled or that she felt like death, because as Yon-rogg, alive and whole and golden eyed, walked towards her. She grinned, because for some reason, a stupid part of her brain imagined that if he was here, alive and well, everything would be alright.

Her instinct couldn't have been more wrong, because On-sar's next words made her heart freeze.

"Excellent work, Commander."

***

Yon-rogg put his entire willpower into remaining unfazed as he walked the hangar. He'd been seized, cuffed and a swift call from On-sar had given him one simple ultimatum; cooperate and your team and Carol will live.

He schooled his expression while his thoughts rushed wildly. He should say something in return to On-sar's 'praise' but it felt physically impossible.

He saw bodies on the floor and his heart ached despite the fact that the dead were clearly all Skrulls, part of Tank’s team. To him, they were individuals now, soldiers who had agreed to risk their lives to save Carol, their ally and friend. Carol herself looked whole, which was a relief, but he could see from the way she carried herself that she was in a lot of pain. Whatever had been done to her, it had clearly left a mark. She looked back at him, assessing him in the same way he had her, her face displaying a mix of confusion and utter devastation. He forced himself to look back, pleading that she would see through his facade, the only person who ever truly could.  _ So do it now _ , he implored silently.  _ Bust my shallow pretence, as you always did. _

It seemed an eternity passed between them while the rest of the universe stood still. After her initial response, the look of betrayal lessened, and he saw it then, and under any other circumstance it would make him smile; the slightly exaggerated, haughty set of her jaw, narrowed eyes and fiery spitefulness. Though it was all a little too much; he knew that look well. She was playing along. 

His heart resumed its beat, and he once again turned his attention to On-sar and Ronan, both looking expectantly at him.

Then Att-lass abruptly rose, looking thoroughly confused as he stared at Yon-rogg and then his mother. “Mo… Admiral. What is the meaning of this? What are you…”

“Saving your life, fool.” On-sar’s tone brokered no protest, and Att-lass lowered himself to the floor again, looking chastened. The Admiral turned her gaze back to Yon-rogg.

He bowed his head slightly, and replied with as much humility as he could muster, "I only wish to serve my people.” It was not a lie.

"I am glad to hear that," Ronan boomed, louder than necessary, overtaking the conversation. "Because there are a great many things that need… clarifying."

Of course, Carol chose that moment to forget her act. "What things?" she asked Ronan with a demanding tone that was completely at odds with her current disadvantage.

Yon-rogg struggled to remain still, afraid any reply he might give would play into the Accuser's hands. And for a moment, indeed, Ronan looked nothing but truly malicious as he eyed the group of people in front of him. 

"Treachery," Ronan declared as his steely, purple eyes suddenly locked on On-sar.

The Admiral looked surprised, but more than that, Yon-rogg saw a flicker of fear. This turn of events must not have been something On-sar expected. His stomach in knots, Yon-rogg took a calm stance yet was keenly aware of just how many Kree warriors were in the hangar now. And how very exposed the group of prisoners, Carol included, were in the middle of them.

Ronan turned to On-sar, seeming untroubled by the sudden rise of tension among their respective subordinates. When he spoke, it was with the complete confidence of an interrogator who already knew the answer to their question. "Tell me about the cure, Admiral."

But On-sar would not be cowed. She looked Ronan dead in the eye, replying acidly, "It has saved the lives of every infected Kree that was brought on board our transports. I only regret we did not have it sooner."

"Your son was the first Kree that got the cure, correct?"

Hardly able to claim otherwise, On-sar nodded. Everyone's attention was now fixed on her and Ronan.

"I can see you are not in a talkative mood,  _ Admiral. _ " Ronan uttered the title with mocking carefulness, as if he didn't find it relevant anymore. "So I will make this easier for you and simply tell you what I know." He stepped slowly towards her as he spoke, like a predator that had cornered its prey and was in no hurry. "The saved Kree all had Skrull dna in their blood."

Like a performer wanting to build suspense, Ronan paused, letting everyone gasp and share appropriately baffled looks. But the true shock came next. With completely insincere regret, Ronan added, "Naturally, they have all been eliminated."

The enforcers made no move, but On-sar's warriors all looked aghast. Att-lass stared blankly as if not comprehending, Ta-rinn let out a pained sound of denial, and Carol… Carol looked furious. And knowing her, the only reason she did not go supernova right now, had to mean she couldn't.

"But…" On-sar reeled, "there were children among…"

"It makes no difference." Ronan now towered over the much shorter Admiral. "We do not mix ourselves with impure beings. It is the  _ law _ ."

_ Sure it’s the law,  _ Yon-rogg thought bitterly.  _ At least in the most ungenerous, dogmatic interpretation possible. _

All strength seems to have left On-sar, and Yon-rogg understood her. He too was close to crumbling, but he couldn't allow it, so he closed off his feelings. He eyed the room again, taking account of the odds between the two sides. It would be an even battle, should On-sar's soldiers stand by their leader. And even battles were bloody battles. 

Carefully, he moved closer to the group of apprehended Skrulls and Kree. Tank was lying on her side but looked like she was waking up, a trail of purple blood trickling down her temple. He found Carol's gaze. She was angry, but collected. When he was sure both Korath and Ronan didn't look at him, he made a slight motion with his hands, as if they were bound and then released, nodding towards the group.  _ Can you do it?  _

She gave an almost invisible nod and kneeled down, making a show of being tired and in pain.

Meanwhile, Ronan kept telling On-sar about how he'd sent Korath to get rid of the people she'd let be  _ defiled.  _ Yon-rogg did not miss the closed off expression on Korath's face at the retelling, and felt a twinge of both sympathy and contempt for his former team mate. Korath was Ronan's weapon now, expected to obey blindly no matter how horrendous the task. Just as  _ he  _ once had obeyed blindly. The thought landed heavy in his heart.

"My only aim has been to protect our people," On-sar justified vehemently in response to Ronan's accusations. "Something that clearly has slipped from the Accusers' agenda!" She drew herself as tall as possible. "And now it is you who have to make a choice, Accuser. My warriors surround yours, and it is I, not you, who have a battle cruiser at my command."

It was the entirely wrong thing to say, Yon-rogg knew as Ronan looked On-sar over from head to toe, his mouth slowly curling in disgust. The entire hangar was silent, as if a collective breath was held.

The order was given with eerie slowness, the Accuser seeming to caress the words as if he wanted to relish the moment.

"Kill them."

On-sar's face displayed stunned incredulity for a moment, before Ronan, with a speed that seemed unnatural for a man his size, produced a blade and slit the Admiral’s throat. Blue blood gushed out and she staggered forward, only to be stabbed again through the chest. Ronan pushed the weight of the dead Admiral off his bloodied hand, her body hitting the floor with a thud.

Shocked terror seemed to freeze the Admiral’s soldiers at the sudden demise of their commander. Then Ronan’s enforcers raised their rifles in unison, and everything came ablaze.

Yon-rogg’s immediate reaction was to leap to his allies and ignite his gauntlets to protect both them and Carol, as they became trapped in the crossfire.

Carol looked up from where she was struggling to free a Skrull soldier - Jez was his name, Yon-rogg recalled.

"You're alive," she grit out, her face pale and coated in a sheen of sweat. The Skrull’s shackles fell away and he instantly rose to help his captain to her feet.

“Talos found me,” Yon explained simply. There was so much more to be said of course, but no time for it. Right now, they both had to be warriors first and foremost.

Carol rose arduously, yet managed a wry grin. “I bet that was interesting.”

He had no doubt she'd think that, but this was not the time to broach that subject, or explain the many turns of events that had ended with Starforce and Talos joining forces. 

Ronan and Korath had joined the fight against On-sar’s warriors, moving through their numbers with alarming speed. Yon-rogg nodded in the direction of the Aegis. “Let’s move. That’s your way out of here.”

The Skrulls followed him and Carol, staying within the protection he offered them. He looked around once, realizing Att-lass and Ta-rinn had stayed behind, hunkering by On-sar’s body. It looked like Ta-rinn was trying to urge Att-lass to move, but he wouldn’t. Blaster bolts flew criss-cross over their heads; it was a matter of time before one would hit.

He turned to Carol. “Get the rest on board the Aegis.”

She shook her head. “No, Yon. I’m not leaving you.”

Hoping he was a good enough liar, he assured her. “I’ll get the two idling idiots and then we all leave.” 

Because he wasn’t leaving Talos behind, alone against whatever force Ronan could muster after the slaughter of On-sar’s guard. Together, he figured the two of them might stand a chance at holding the bridge for long enough to get the Vindicator through the jump point, set a charge and destroy the prototype weapon before it fell into the wrong hands. He suspected their third objective - to save the remaining Skrulls under Veranke’s command - was a lost cause at this point.

“Okay,” Carol agreed, then joined the Skrulls as they made their way through the crossfire towards the Aegis’s ramp. 

When Yon-rogg reached Att-lass and Ta-rinn, the former looked up, face stony but eyes wet. “Help us carry her. Please.”

Deciding one gauntlet might be enough to shield the three of them, Yon-rogg nodded. He and Ta-rinn took one leg each, while Att-lass lifted his dead mother around the chest. Through the din of the battle, Yon-rogg heard a sudden cry of pain from the Aegis’s ramp. One of the Skrulls had been hit, and now more blaster fire rained in. The Enforcers had finally realized what their captives were up to. 

Tank was on her knees by the fallen soldier, struggling in vain to get a life sign from him. Carol came to help drag the dead or dying Skrull into the Aegis. Att-lass and Ta-rinn would have to manage the rest of the way, Yon-rogg decided, and released his part of the burden to free both his hands. With both gauntlets freed up, he easily lifted the attacking enforcers and threw them into the hangar’s opposite wall. He just about had time to wonder where Ronan was, when something grabbed the back of his uniform and threw him to the ground.

Wheezing, he began pushing himself up, but was slammed back to the floor as a heavy boot pressed on his shoulder, the head of Ronan's hammer resting inches from his nose.

"Commander. Ever the loyal soldier," Ronan mused. The press of the boot increased and Yon-rogg thought he felt the snap of a bone midst the crushing pain.

The Aegis’s engines were firing up. He summoned his determination. If he put up enough of a struggle, Talos would have the time he needed, and Yon-rogg might be lucky enough to get a swift death. But those meager hopes iced the moment Carol’s voice rang through.

"Yon!" 

He cursed her stubbornness, and still, while he’d give almost anything to save her, knowing she’d rather face hopeless odds with him, than to leave and be safe… He’d be lying if that didn’t stir something powerful in his soul. It however also meant this entire mission, and every sacrifice made for it, might be for nothing.

Korath swiftly overpowered Carol and she was pushed to the floor beside Yon-rogg, her golden hair in sweaty tangles and eyes glassy with pain. She looked thoroughly exhausted.

"Sorry," she panted breathlessly at the same time he heard the sound of the Aegis leaving them. “I couldn’t. I’m sorry Yon, I couldn’t leave you… not again.”

He understood. But that did not make the moment less bitter.

He was about to respond, but was interrupted by an ear deafening crash and a wave of heat, close enough to singe his skin. 

Korath bolted to his feet. “They’re shooting at us!”

Yon-rogg, still pinned to the floor, struggled to get a glimpse of what was going on. Indeed, the Aegis was hovering  _ inside _ the hangar, it’s cannonry aimed at them. Another blast came, closer this time. It was reckless. The risk that they would hit him or Carol was as big as the chance of hitting either Ronan or Korath.

“Take care of it,” Ronan ordered and rose. Before Yon-rogg could react, his arm numb and body aching, the Accuser janked Carol to her feet. She struggled feebly and Yon-rogg helplessly watched as sparks flashed across her hands and arms, each resulting in a grimace of pain. More alarming, it looked like it weakened her. 

He pushed himself to his hands and knees, determined to follow, when Korath sent him sliding across the floor with a ruthless kick to his gut. Dazed, he saw Ronan drag Carol with him through the door. He scrambled to his feet, ready for another attempt at pursuit, when Korath stepped in his way, swords at the ready.

Fine. He would simply have to be quick about it. The idea hurt more than he wanted to admit. Korath had been his team mate. They may have had their differences, but he respected the warrior too much to hold that against him.

On the opposite side, the Aegis’s cannons began blasting the remaining enforcers. That left Yon-rogg alone with Korath, his former team member standing between him and saving Carol from whatever gruesome fate the Supreme Intelligence had in store for her.

“Don’t do this,” he begged, knowing already it wouldn’t make a difference.

Korath replied with complete certainty. “You are compromised and a threat to the Empire.”

The rage that burst into power inside Yon-rogg took even him by surprise. It clawed and burned in his chest and behind his eyes before spreading like wildfire in his body, a tormented beast that had been caged inside him for too long, at last snapping the string tethering it to its place. 

_ A threat to the Empire. _ What decision of his had been aimed at the destruction of his people? That he had been unwilling to murder the person who had saved the civilian population on the attacked planets? Or was it that he would rather ally with a Skrull than watch their home destroyed?

“You are wrong. I am no threat to the Empire,” he said, his voice dangerous and sure. “It is warriors like you, who slaughter innocents for no crime other than a fanatic’s interpretation of an ancient law, that  _ are _ .”

Faster than his former ally had expected, Yon-rogg lurched forward on a burst of adrenaline fueled anger, and struck. His magnitron enhanced punch sent Korath staggering, but the warrior was more than a match for him and Yon-rogg knew it. He was immediately ready to block the counter, after which he lifted the other man into the air with one glove, and threw him with his other into the wall. Korath fell to the floor, unconscious.

Yon-rogg went for the door and engaged his comm at the same time.

“Ta-rinn.”

_ “Commander.” _

“Take the Aegis and everyone on board to safety. And please obey my orders, this time.”

_ “I will.“ _ There was a hesitant pause, after which she said,  _ “For the good of all Kree, Commander.” _

He smiled somberly at the familiar words as he fell into a run through the hallway. It was a strangely elated feeling to have finally chosen, something that made him wonder how long he had been struggling to remain loyal. It hadn’t occurred to him until now, that he did not have to choose between Carol and the Kree, because she was  _ already on his side _ . The same side as Ta-rinn, Att-lass and even, he suspected, On-sar, as well as thousands of other Kree he had yet to know.

“For the good of all Kree,” he echoed.


	22. Contingencies

Soren didn’t remain in the command room for long. She wasn’t a warrior and the detached, albeit necessary, calculation of risks and lives made her uncomfortable. Every single situation described only spurred an onslaught of images in her head of how her mate and friends could die in one or another horrible way. So she left, with the excuse that she needed to check on their medical supplies. 

She had not set one foot outside the door before she bumped into Mav. He looked agitated.

“Mav,” she startled. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head with an energy that made his large silver earrings dangle, his eyes bright with excitement. “I was looking for you. I was running the decryption script that we found on Mar-vells harddrives and well… It worked. I know what’s on the chip you got from Pallakor. You won’t believe until you see it, but...”

“Show me,” she said, grabbing his elbow and leading him down the hall. 

He looked over his shoulder at the doors. “What about Talos?”

“Busy. I’ll fill him in.”

They went to Mav’s ‘dungeon’ as he jokingly called it, and it was an accurate description; there were no viewports and the light was consistently kept low so not as to interfere with the many screens. He led her to one of the terminals at the back and flipped a switch. Array upon array of Kree glyphs, indicating file names, filled the screen. He pointed at one of them, opening the file. 

“It’s only partially translated, the script didn’t handle the language all that well, but Tank mentioned that you can read Kree.”

She leaned over the screen and read. The language was like a warped, stitled dialect of modern Kree. It was readable, but would require some practice. As she slowly began to grasp the content matter, Soren looked up at Mav, her voice hitching, "Have you read this?”

“Some. I came for you when I realized the scope of it.”

She pressed, "And the time stamps, the dates... are they accurate?" 

He nodded. "As far as I can tell, this predates Skrullos. Pretty decent scoop for some random archive digging."

Both were silent for a few moments, staring astoundedly at the screen. Soren recalled the eerie halls of Pallakor’s laboratory and added the knowledge of just how old the complex was, pretading its most current use by a hundred generations at least. It seemed too huge, almost unbelievable. 

She promptly opened the next file, skimming through it. Some of the text was missing, like jagged holes in an enormous jigsaw of linked stories, but there was enough there to rattle anyone who would claim they knew all about the war between her people and the Kree. 

She told Mav, “The Supremor ordered the destruction of the entire facility on Pallakor, after they got me out of there.” Her eyes flashed to him. “That could mean…”

“We are the only ones who have it,” he inferred, a flicker between caution and opportunity in his voice. “So, what do we do now?”

“I’m not sure.” Her eyes flitted to the screen again, already anxious to keep reading. “Could you get some more people, Meret perhaps and Jorias, to help me go through some of this? To get to the most relevant parts?” She recalled Tank complaining that the new quartermaster was a real 'study-freak'.

“I can do that. What are you thinking?”

She chewed her lip. “I don’t know yet. But it’s a start.”

When Soren returned to the command room, the final points of the plan were being put in place. They were now discussing who should go where, and Talos and the Commander were throwing barbed words at each other as to who was trustworthy or not to lead a team to the bridge. 

Then Tank, with her usual irreverence and looking exceedingly tired of their argument, eventually interrupted, “I guess that settles it. You two are taking the bridge.”

The hostile glares that had previously been exchanged between the men now turned to Tank, who dismissed their animosity with an easy shrug. “It’s the best option. If neither of you can trust the other to take a team to take the bridge, then both of you should go. Talos can handle the Vindicator’s controls, and Yon-rogg is so renowned for his fighting skills that his name is practically a curse among our people. I’ll lead the hangar team, create a diversion so that foul bitch has something else to think about when you sneak in and bust her ass."

That's one way to put it I suppose, Soren thought bemusedly as she noted the half horrified, half fascinated looks the Kree were exchanging among themselves.

Silence settled as each person around the table contemplated Tank's suggestion, aside from the display of fringe-space lingo. Then, eventually, Talos nodded. “She’s right,” he said. Pride blossomed inside Soren together with terror. If she had understood correctly, her mate was going to attempt to take a cruiser _on foot_ from the _outside_. It was, for lack of any other word, insane.

She swallowed, mustering her courage and putting on the same mask of determination she’d worn before. “Talos.” He looked at her. “There’s something I have to show you when you’re done here.”

He looked around the table, eventually stopping at Tank. “I trust my Captain to sort out the rest of the details. I’ll be back shortly.”

Once they were outside the command room, she pulled him aside and quickly explained her and Mav’s discovery. His expression was, as she’d expected, a mix of disorientation and astonishment.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” she finally said.

“If it’s _true_ ,” he countered gently. “If the dates are correct, those records are ancient, Soren. And you mentioned missing pieces.”

She insisted, not willing to let this go. “Think about it. In this case, ancient might actually lend more credibility to the source than if it had been of a recent date. And the missing pieces are not many and far inbetween. This… this could change _everything_.”

He watched her pensively. 

“You should probably go back to the others,” she said, some of her excitement dosed. “I’ll tell you if we find something else.”

“I have to ask something of you,” Talos said seriously.

She already knew what he was going to say. It made perfect sense. This mission was riskier than anything Talos had done in his life. She had no doubt the only reason he even considered doing this, was a combination of duty to his nation, and the fact that he knew his family was safe and not languishing in some forgotten, hidden laboratory. If he died, he would want to be sure Indes still had family left. And that meant Soren could not join their mission.

“To stay safe. I already know,” she lamented, her stomach tightening to a point of agony. If she had any warrior skills at all, she might fight him on this. But she didn’t. She could not offer anything that might help their mission, other than assurance that she was safe, that Talos would not have to worry about saving her too.

“I want you to stay on the Mar-vell,” he explained gently. “She is fast and the shielding is decent, enough to get out of the heat in case things don’t go according to plan. Meret will stay behind, as well.”

Soren nodded. She felt useless, even as she told herself it was an irrational feeling. She had survived the hell of captivity, but not being able to help her friends, to do anything at all to alleviate this situation… It crushed her.

Knowing exactly what went through her mind, Talos took her in his arms. “My love,” he whispered. 

“Is this it?” she whimpered. “Is this when we part for the last time?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. He never promised to return after a mission. He never lied to her about the risks he was taking. Their lives were constantly at risk, regardless, it was just a matter of how acute the threat. It was nothing new. But the stakes were higher this time, more so than ever before during their life together. Regardless of what Talos told Yon-rogg, he _had to_ do this.

So far, the Kree Empire's persecution of their people had been upheld by propaganda, or fear of the Accusers. As long as the Skrulls were weak but present, they were useful; the Kree population’s fear of them acted as glue for an otherwise unjust and sprawled society. But strong and aggressive, they were dangerous. Mar-vell knew this, which was why her primary concern had been for their protection, instead of arming them against the Empire. But if Veranke succeeded, however crippling the damage to Hala, it would be at the price of their last remaining military fleet, followed by a brutal hunt to kill the last of them.

Soren strongly suspected that Veranke was fully aware of the consequence of her choice, but like many, she was too frustrated to care, or had simply lost hope that they might ever rebuild. Better then to go out in a blaze, then to be slowly extinguished.

A slow anger unfurled inside her. There _was_ a middle path between apathy and self-destruction. It wasn’t easy to know which was what at every point in time, but it was there, for anyone who cared to look. She was looking now.

“Talos,” she said and drew herself up in his embrace. “I have an idea. It’s a little far-fetched, maybe even crazy.”

“All about this is crazy,” he muttered.

“It has to do with the Pallakor archives. And… you’re probably not going to like it.” Her heart sped up to a frantic beat, even as the idea took more solid shape in her mind. She swallowed, expecting his protests. “But frankly, you can’t stop me, so you might as well listen to what I’m going to do.”

She spoke, and he listened quietly.

When she had finished, he wasn’t angry like he’d been on Pallakor. Instead, Talos merely looked thoughtful. Certain. He trusted her. 

“I think this means we both have a lot to do in a very short time,” he said simply.

He was right. They shared a tight embrace, then it was time to prepare.

Several hours later, Soren closed the comm call from Talos and asked Meret to steer them back to the jump point and take them somewhere mid space where no one would think to look for them. 

Everything in her screamed that she was abandoning her kin and family. She drew a trembling breath and shot to her feet before her instinct got the better of her, facing Mav who had been standing behind her.

“Still sure about this?” he asked. 

“Too late for doubts I’m afraid,” she replied tightly, hoping her fear didn’t show. 

She was afraid. Terrified, really. For what she was about to do was as much to plunge herself into enemy territory, as Talos and Tank just had. And they were betting on her to get them out of it. Everything now depended on her - and the borderline insane notion that she and Mav had just uncovered some great, ancient secret. 

They crossed the Mar-vell’s hallways until they reached the one small room that had been used only once in the latest years. The scorch marks from Carol’s struggle were still visible, but the hexagonal surface still gave a dim glow when activated. Mav looked nervous to be in here. Skrulls did not go near communion pads. Not only had they no idea how it would affect them as their biology was different from the Kree’s, but it was also a stark symbol of the rule that more or less demanded the eradication of their entire species. It was not a mere _war_ between their races, no matter what the history records claimed. It was _annihilation_. And now Soren stood ready to walk into the belly of the beast itself, and put everything she had on the line to end it.

“D-do you have the copy?” she asked, unable to check the tremble in her voice. 

Mav bent down and attached a sleek memory unit to a socket at the base of the pad. It was there to act as proof of their claims. 

“I won’t be able to cut power when you’re in there,” Mav said seriously as he rose. “If it traps you, you’ll probably die.”

She nodded tensely. Ske knew. She also knew that if this didn’t work, she was far from the only one likely to die, and that was her bigger concern. “I’m ready,” she whispered. 

There was no time to lose, and so she stepped onto the pad. Cold wrapped her as a web of glowing tendrils grew up from the pad’s surface, covering her legs like vines. The slithering touch made her feel trapped as it tightened, almost as if it already sensed a foreign being was here instead of a benign subject. The tendrils reached for her hands and she let them, feeling the cold embrace travel over her arms, torso, neck and head.

The world tilted and for a few terrifying moments, Soren couldn’t breathe. The experience was unlike anything, like being sucked into the depth of an ocean, her vision blackening, hearing dulled and ever growing pressure on her entire body.

Then, the world finally stopped moving, the lid lifted from her senses and she stared out into a gray, hazy dreamscape.

She rose and turned around, looking for anything or anyone. 

“Hello!” she called out into the void. No one answered. Soren took a quick account of herself. Her reflection was visible on the floor, or what passed for a floor in this not-word, at least. She looked exactly the way she had outside, down to the smallest stain on her clothes.

She filled her lungs with air even if she knew there was no such thing here, and bellowed. “I demand to speak to the Supreme Intelligence!”

Nothing. Frustrated, she began walking. Time was already running short and she had no idea how fast or slow it passed in this place. What if everyone was already dead or captured by the time she’d managed to grant herself an audience?

She stopped, trying to recall every bit of information she’d had time to memorize from the Pallakor files. 

_… Biology optimized for adapting and altering. Normal procedures of control are thus insufficient. Reverse control has even been observed on occasion, leading to the conclusion…_

Soren closed her virtual eyes. This was one of the expected scenarios, she reminded herself. But she was not without options. She was a Skrull, and from what she’d learned, that meant she was _everything_ the Supremor feared. Even trapped in here, her body was still the channel through which the Supreme Intelligence’s network communicated with her mind. And that gave her power, because her body could find ways around the rigid boundaries imposed on any Kree in her place.

Soren reached a hand out in front of herself, and thought the command as clearly as she could. 

_Stop._

The play of light, the watery surface and the strange stormy clouds in the background came to an abrupt halt, as if someone had paused a recording. Swallowing her excitement, Soren then imagined with as much detail as she could, a different setting. A familiar one. A lost one.

A rocky, lichen covered beach, a purple sunset reflected in a clear ocean, and gorgeous icy rings across the horizon. 

A hesitant smile formed on her lips as her surroundings reshaped to fit that of her mind’s eye. “Now that’s better,” she said to herself.

But then a stern, very angry and achingly familiar woman’s voice cut through the air. _“What are you doing here?”_

Soren turned around slowly, looking up the hill on the path to the settlement, and all air escaped from her lungs.

The woman who had spoken was a Skrull of medium height, dark green skin with purple speckles above the ears and over her forehead. But her eyes were a cold, unnatural green and nothing like the bright lavender Soren so vividly recalled.

Despite the glaring evidence that this woman was not who she appeared to be, flashes of Soren’s earliest memories rippled through her mind, throwing her off balance. How long ago was it, since she saw this face? Intense longing filled her.

“You are not my mother,” Soren said.

The Supreme Intelligence smiled insincerely. “Of course not. Your real mother died when you were just a hatchling. This is just the woman whom you gave that name.”

Soren struggled to meet those green eyes. “I have come to talk. About Pallakor.”

“And to negotiate,” the Supreme Intelligence added knowingly. “Or, you think you will.”

“I am,” Soren replied adamantly.

“Little Soren,” the other mocked, “did you believe everything in those old files? Did you really think you would have any power, _in here?_ ”

And just so, the ground was ripped from under Soren’s feet, and everything turned black.

***

After Yon-rogg had left, Talos stepped to the main controls, starting by ordering the emergency protocol to close and lock the bridge doors. Then he turned to navigation. Although he could not see through the blast shields, a ship the size of the Vindicator didn’t depend on visuals for navigation. The radar scanner showed the ships in the vicinity along with Hala. The clusters of bombers he’d seen on their climb earlier had broken off into fights with Kree forces. 

He set the Vindicator in motion, raising them out of orbit towards the jump point, praying the Nemesis’ command would be wise enough to let them leave. The two cruisers were of similar size, and neither now had the firepower to swiftly undo the other. 

He looked back at Veranke, who lay with her eyes closed as if passively awaiting an end to come. “You should order a retreat,” he said quietly. “Some might still get away.”

She only muttered something in response. Suddenly furious, he flung himself down on one knee beside her, lifting her up by her collar. 

“Order a retreat,” he demanded with a rising snarl. “Now.”

She just glowered, defiance bright in her eyes. 

Talos dropped her to the floor. She groaned, falling limp out of his grasp. “What is wrong with you?” he growled.

She didn’t answer, just glared back at him. He decided to try a different tactic. “What did you think was going to happen? That you would crush the Kree capital and be some kind of hero for it? This plan…” he let out an exasperated sigh, almost a chuckle, “is idiotic. _Stupid_ , Veranke.”

Now there was a reaction. Her expression, so adamant a moment ago, became flush with indignation. “It’s war! Things don't always go according to plan!”

He just shook his head. For all her bluster, Veranke was younger than most soldiers under his command. He remembered that as he looked at her now, literally crushed and probably dying, albeit slowly. She would likely have to have some healing implants to even be alive, but those would not fix a crushed thigh bone or a broken elbow.

“We have to get out of here,” he informed curtly and turned to the controls again.

“Talos,” Veranke said with a fresh intent in her voice, even a hint of imploring. He didn’t turn to look at her. “This cruiser had eight hundred and twenty one crewmembers when we left Earth.”

“A lot of good soldiers wasted,” he agreed sardonically.

"It was a _trap_." She was defensive now.

"I gathered that much,” he snapped. “You are a General, yet you act like a youngling. This is real. People are dead. Millions of Kree. Hundreds of ours. And for _what_?”

She was silent. He turned briefly to look at her. Her eyes were averted, a broken expression crossing her youthful, battered features. He stilled. A ‘tactical prodigy’, many had called Veranke. He had heard of it at the time he began his dealings with Mar-vell. If he had made different choices then, if he had been someone she could look up to, to offer advice and support… how different things might have been.

When she spoke, it was with a fragile, hollow voice he wouldn’t have thought she possessed. “You have to help me finish this.”

He tensed. “Finish what?”

“The photon cannon. It’s to you right, do you see it? Two levers and an attached panel just above. You only have to get us in position.”

“No. I made a deal,” he returned flatly, turning back to the console.

She drawled derisively, “A deal? With a _Kree_? Let me guess, you want to get all of us out of here, in exchange for sparing their home planet?”

“Something like that,” he muttered even as her words unwrapped a small uncertainty in him.

As if sensing that she’d gained some ground, Veranke insisted, “Change course. We have to do this. We don’t have a choice.”

He bristled, turning to her again. “What part of ‘I made a deal’ don’t you understand?”

She returned his glare with the complete confidence of someone who knows they’re doomed, no matter what. “The part where you stand by said deal despite the fact that your people, who you have a duty to protect, _my King_ , will be _slaughtered_ unless we retaliate.”

He snarled, knowing well he was letting himself be provoked. “I did not order this lunacy.”

“No, you preferred to hide passively until we were all killed instead.”

“I _had_ found a planet. I _had_ a safe haven for our people. And you gave it to the Kree.”

Her eyes flitted away, some guilt showing. “The Kree would have found it.”

“Perhaps they would have. But we would find another home then. We always do.”

“Like Torfa?” she spat.

He winced. Torfa had been his call, something he’d never escape responsibility for. Fumbling for a response, the only thing he could say was, “I didn't mean to draw the Accusers there. I only meant...”

“...To capture Danvers,” she filled in with mocking levity. “Of course. All is forgiven.”

“It is not the same,” he defended himself, annoyance replacing regret. “I made a _mistake_. You did not. You’ve lost your way, Veranke, and I’m taking you home to answer for it.”

“Or…” she said, “you could do as I suggest and we’d both return as victors. Your choice, your _Majesty_ . But tell me, what would the Council, what will _your soldiers_ think when I tell them you had the chance to turn Hala to cinders, and chose not to? Because you had ‘made a deal’ with a Kree, with a man who has made a name for himself for butchering our kind?”

That hit the mark. Talos recoiled from the twisted version of his choices she had presented. But she wasn’t wrong either, he was forced to admit. It was easier to follow his own conviction and personal honor when he didn’t consider the outside perspective.

Talos glanced at the control Veranke had described. He could do it. It would be easy. He closed his eyes. _No. You made a deal._

“Talos,” she implored. “I know you have every reason to hate me. Trust me, after Torfa, I know what that is like. But don’t let this be for nothing.” She was weakening, the brutal injuries taking their toll. “We have to do this.”

Talos wished he had some of Soren’s clarity of mind. She would never let herself be dragged into an argument like this. She would know what to do.

A small voice in his heart informed him that he already knew what she would do. But he wasn’t Soren. He was a soldier, and more than that, a King. He had to consider more than his personal feelings. He had to make choices even if it meant damning his soul. Even if she would never forgive him.

He glanced at the navigation map. They were halfway to the jump point. The Nemesis hadn’t moved. His mind reeled, grief and fear coiling in his chest like two trapped serpents.

If the Nemesis didn’t move out of the way, if Soren’s plan failed, if Carol, Yon-rogg, Tank and his soldiers in the hangar were dead, if Ronan and his enforcers were on their way to the bridge even now, if the Accuser fleet arrived… It would be the end of everything. 

_Gods forgive me._

“Alright,” he whispered. 

Forcing his hands steady, he ordered the Vindicator to a full stop, then to turn back into orbit. The huge ship moved arduously slowly. Time passed by in a haze while his heartbeat thundered in his ears, every beat telling him _no, no, no…_

 _Yes_ , he retorted stubbornly. _Yes._ He forced himself to detach, to see things from afar. To think back on this moment as if he would survive the outcome.

Finally, they were back in orbit. Only moments remained before they were in range.

“Help me up,” Veranke begged. “Please.”

Talos hesitated, but then bent down and lay her good arm over his shoulders, pulling her up with him. She trembled with the effort. “Thank you,” she said. They took a halting step to the main control. Talos used one hand to order the Vindicator’s autopilot to remain in position.

His comm came live and a swell of relief filled him when he heard it was Tank. Her voice was broken, rattled. _“Talos. Are you there?”_

“I’m here,” he said.

She sounded distracted, the sentences jumbled. _“It’s bad… Keep pressure on it! We’re on the Aegis now. We were ambushed... Jez don’t you dare die on me!_ ” There was a pause and a sob. “ _...Where are you?”_

“The bridge,” he replied. “Tank. You have to leave. Now.”

 _“No!”_ Tank protested. _“The Accuser is coming for you. We'll pick you up.”_

“Leave. Now!” 

He turned off the comm. A heavy, cold weight settled in his stomach.

A loud bang resounded through the bridge, the sound of heavy metals colliding, as someone was forcing the door open. Another bang followed and after the third impact, a crack appeared between the thick panels.

“Hurry,” Veranke urged him, but Talos stood as if frozen, because at the same time, a desperate voice called from the other side of the door. _Carol._

“Talos, look out! It’s Ronan!” 

Talos didn’t move. The Accuser's hammer slammed again against the door. 

He was vaguely aware of Veranke’s increasingly furious protests, but her voice was drowned out by his own thoughts.

This was how it would end, then. Ronan was here and if Carol was calling a warning, it had to mean she was unable to fight the Accuser.

The control for the cannon was merely two steps away. He looked at it, but couldn’t make himself move. Suddenly, it all became clear. The pros and cons, the price and gain.

They had lost. What difference would it make, if millions were killed in one final act of vengeance? The Accusers would not be the ones dying, anyways. The Supreme Intelligence would not go away, either. All that it would bring was more destruction and infinite numbers of dead added to already staggering losses.

The Council’s words came back to him. ‘ _Lead our warriors with wisdom and compassion.’_ And with them, Ruza’s. ‘ _Talos. I want us to win against the Kree -’_

“I can’t do this,” Talos said hollowly.

_‘- Not become them.’_

Veranke raged. “What!?”

“We can’t do this,” he repeated more firmly, looking at the young, enraged General. He still held her up, but she began to struggle against his grip.

The door shattered. Veranke looked over his shoulder at the approaching Accuser. Talos bent his head down, resigned. He had made his choice. But so had Veranke. She let go of him and tried to throw herself at the control for the cannon. He grabbed her broken arm and dragged her back. She screamed and they stumbled backwards a step, precariously close to the edge of the pit.

Something bit hard in his stomach. Distantly, he heard Carol scream his name. He looked down. His own knife protruded from his midsection. Veranke’s face was twisted in pure hate. She pulled it out, and jammed it in again, further down. Talos's vision blurred and pain racked his body. Veranke tried to jerk out of his grip, but she was too weak and as he fell over the edge, he dragged her with him.


	23. Goliath

Not at any point since she had freed herself of the Supremor’s control, had Carol thought she might be returned there one day. She hadn’t feared it, simply because she had thought it impossible; she was too powerful to be contained.

She was not powerful now.

She kicked. She clawed. She yanked herself free but was caught a moment later. 

It didn’t help. 

Carol felt as pathetic as the women of old monster abduction movies, by the way Ronan dragged her with him. Sometimes by the arm, sometimes, and more humiliating, holding the back of her collar. Ronan was absolutely determined not to let her out of his sight, but not out of protectiveness. She did not doubt he’d kill her in a moment's notice if it turned out she was not useful anymore.

At one point, she managed to summon enough power to blast Ronan’s hammer out of his grip. She was awarded with a backhand slap across her face that knocked her to the floor. 

She panted, spitting blood. “I’ll kill you.”

Ronan was unmoved. He picked up his hammer. “I can crush your kneecaps to save myself trouble. I need you alive, nothing more. Your choice.”

The threat, which she had no doubt was a real one, cracked what remained of her facade. Numb with fear, she swayed as Ronan pulled her to her feet again, and began walking with her wrist in an iron grip, leaving her with the option to follow, or be dragged. She chose the former.

 _Oh my god._ This could _not_ be happening. They would take her memories again and put her back as the Supremor’s tool! Not under Yon-rogg, but Ronan, this time. She would rather die than allow that to happen.

 _Stop. Think._ She drew in a breath and let it out with deliberate slowness, quelling the sparks of power responding to her panic.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Bridge,” Ronan replied curtly. “Then we’ll await the other Accusers. Should be here any moment now.”

“Will you destroy the Vindicator then?”

“Later. First the Supremor’s property must be retrieved.”

“Property? You mean.. the weapon? The cannon?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Of course the Supremor wouldn't let Mar-vell's invention, now finally realized, get blown out of the sky. 

Carol tried to puzzle together the small fragments of information she’d gotten during those chaotic minutes in the hangar. Att-lass had mentioned Talos, did that mean he was here? On the bridge? She regretted not asking for more details, but there hadn’t been time. It was a dizzying thought that Starforce - _Kree, friggin’ Starforce_ \- had allied with her Skrull friends to help her. It was also deeply moving. She hoped, desperately, that the Aegis had made it out of the fray intact. Except stupid, stubborn Yon-rogg who had attempted to cover their escape with his own life. She wasn’t going to let that happen. No goddamn way.

The last time she was led to the Vindicator’s bridge, she’d been too grief stricken to memorize the way, but the sealed blast doors at the end of the hall was a clear sign that they had arrived. She was unsure what lay beyond this time - was the bridge still open to the vacuum of space? Ronan showed no such concern. After just three hits from his powerful hammer, the door began to budge.

Carol called out a warning, just in case Talos really was in there. Not that it would make much of a difference. Then, a few hits later, the door was flung inward. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the relative darkness on the bridge. Standing on the edge of the pit where she’d been held captive, silhouetted against the glow of screens, two figures were locked in a struggle.

Ronan stalked determinedly towards them, hammer raised. Carol ran past, dodging the Accuser as he stretched out a hand to stop her. She was halfway when she recognized Veranke’s face, turned towards her, and a moment later, the familiar outline of her opponent.

“Talos!” she yelled. He didn't react. Then he and Veranke both fell into the pit.

A blaster bolt sizzled through the air. Carol spun around. Yon-rogg had arrived just after them, now brandishing his blaster and glowing gauntlet at Ronan.

"We're not done," he declared, and damn if there wasn't a cocky swag to those words, entirely novel coming from him. As if he were partly enjoying himself.

Undeterred, Ronan gave his hammer a test swing with alarming ease. "Leave while you can, traitor."

"Never," Yon-rogg hissed. "You'll have to kill me."

"I can do that," Ronan said evenly. 

He's buying me time, Carol realized and forced her attention away from the argument. She ran the final steps to the pit and looked down at two unmoving bodies, sprawled among wires and broken equipment. She flung herself down, immediately rushing to Talos's side.

He was awake, eyes dazed with pain. “Carol,” he huffed out, face contorting with effort to speak. To breathe. 

She looked him over and instantly grew cold. Blood was pulsing out of two points on his abdomen, a knife still stuck in one of them. Mortal wounds, without immediate treatment. Her world narrowed as panic set in, faced with the risk of losing him. Talos, who had been her faithful companion as she took her beginning steps into a new identity. He who had, in a way that still astounded her, forgiven the crimes she’d committed against his people, simply by recognizing that war turned all into monsters, regardless for whom you fought.

"No," she whimpered, pressing her hands hard against the open wounds.

In the background were the beginning sounds of struggle, heavy crashes and blasts tearing through the air.

Talos lay a hand on hers. It was too cold. “Carol,” he whispered.

“Shhh! Don’t speak,” she said desperately. 

"I'm sorry. For what I said." There was a sad finality in his voice that scared her into tears.

“No you’re not!” she shouted.

He smiled. The bastard _smiled_ while bleeding out from a gut wound. Carol offered a brief glance at the cause of his injury, and realization struck her like another smack to her face. Veranke looked, well, exactly as broken as Carol had imagined in her every vengeful fantasy. But that was not what she thought of now. She fixed her gaze on the General, for any sign she might still be alive, despite the unnatural angle of her neck and the white bone visible through a wound that wasn't bleeding. There was nothing. Veranke was dead.

“Oh my god…” Carol crumpled over Talos. “Oh my god, oh my god… She’s dead, Talos. She said… she told me if she died, that thing on her arm would send a signal, and -”

“It’s been dealt with,” he interrupted. 

She looked up. “It has?”

“Your home is safe,” his cold hand patted her bloody knuckles once.

“Oh thank you! And-” she remembered, “-so is yours. Vorik never gave away _Soren’s_ location. He told me himself that he had been afraid Veranke would sell it out, so he lied.”

Talos’s face only displayed brief relief. “Listen. You have to disable the cannon - Veranke’s weapon. Can you… destroy it, somehow?”

She looked around bewilderedly, her mind furiously blank. She couldn't do that. If she moved away from him, he would bleed out in less than a minute.

"I'll try," she said anyways, but didn't move.

“Good, good…” Talos’s eyelids began to droop and his gaze lost focus. Carol grabbed his chin.

“No. NO, Talos! Stay with me. I'm gonna find something to stop the bleeding, alright?"

Something crashed into the ledge above her. There was a blast and a brief shockwave and for a heartstopping moment - silence. Then the fighting resumed and she could breathe again.

 _Stop. Think._ She closed her eyes, trying to remember. 

_'I used to work in my mother's clinic.'_ That's right! Vorik had kept medical gear around here. She looked around and spotted a case tucked in below a console, right where he used to stand just before the start of a charge. 

She ran there, janked the case out, and ran back, ripping it open. With one hand pressed to the open wound that didn't have a knife in it, she sifted through the various tubes and bottles. Everything was sticky and slippery with blood and the low light made it impossible to read the labels. She forced the tiniest trickle of power through her hand. Pain pulsed with every beat of her heart but the light helped her find what she was looking for. A needle sprung from the slender, pen-like tube as she pressed the top, and then pushed it into the wound. Talos, barely conscious, tensed with pain for a second and then passed out completely. The bleeding instantly stopped and swollen, purple lump grew out of the wound. She let out a breath, then removed the knife from the other wound, and repeated the procedure. 

She stood up. Ten paces away Yon-rogg was cornered, and forced to one knee under the press of Ronan's hammer. The magnitron field bulged and strained against the charged weapon, before overcharging in one bright blue flash. As the Accuser staggered backwards, Yon-rogg could escape, but Carol knew he would not be able to use the gauntlets again before replacing the energy cells. Regardless, she’d have to trust him to handle the situation for just a little longer. 

She had to disable the cannon. But how? Then her eyes found the hatch she’d previously escaped through. _... some place less volatile?_ She looked at Talos. Two grenades were hooked to his belt. She took them, hurried to the hatch, opened it and pulled the pin with her teeth before throwing them inside. A couple of seconds after she closed the lid, a muffled boom resounded through the floor. Hopefully, that would do it.

When she looked up this time, it was just in time to see Yon-rogg get kicked in the chest and fall to the floor. He had lost his blaster at some point and his gauntlets sparked uselessly at his attempt to activate them.

Carol ran to Talos’s side, janked out the blaster from his belt, and bellowed, 

“RONAN!”

The Accuser had raised his hammer, ready to finish the job, but came to an abrupt standstill at Carol’s shout. Even in the dim light she could see the curious look he gave her, as if he was not worried but just mildly interested in what she might have come up with this time. Yon-rogg scrambled to his feet, displaying the shock and relief of someone who had just narrowly escaped death. Only after he had made some space between himself and Ronan did he dare a look at her. His face twisted into anguish as she moved the blaster under her chin.

“Ronan,” Carol repeated as she undid the safety. “You said you want me alive. Let Yon-rogg and Talos go, or I won’t be.”

The blaster hummed as its energy cell charged up and she had to resist the self preserving urge to move it aside. She met Yon-rogg’s eyes. He shook his head, mouth half open in helpless bewilderment, the word ‘no’ forming on his lips. She smiled briefly at him, realizing she might not get another chance. Moving her gaze to Ronan, she cocked her head upward, displaying the firm press of the weapon against her head. 

“Let. Them. Go,” she demanded.

Ronan stared at her, a contemptuous sneer forming. He didn’t think she’d do it. Well then.

Carol moved the blaster slightly aside, and fired. The plasma bolt tore over her cheek and left a trail of melted skin. She gritted her teeth against the pain and her own thrumming survival instinct. 

With a cockiness she definitely didn't feel, she dared him, “Well? How’s it gonna be?”

Clearly conflicted, Ronan looked between her and Yon-rogg. Then, with a displeased snarl, he conceded. “Fine.”

Carol looked to Yon-rogg. “Talos is badly injured but stabilized. Take him. There’s a ship still in the hangar that you can use."

Yon-rogg walked cautiously towards the pit, never letting Ronan completely out of his sight. As he jumped down, he immediately reached for her, but she backed away, holding the blaster firmly in place.

“Don’t do this,” he begged her, as she knew he would. 

She swallowed, her mouth dry. “There’s no time. Talos needs a medic. And the Accusers will be here any minute.”

“Tell me you have a plan.”

She tried to smile, but it wasn’t possible because all of her just wanted to crumble. “Of course I have a plan.”

He exhaled, forming that odd, annoyed smile that only he seemed capable of. Exertion of combat made his chiseled features glow with heat and life. It was like looking at an entirely different man, yet the same, like he was _more_ himself now than he ever had before. It was beautiful.

He took another step towards her and she backed away again. 

“Please,” she implored. “Trust me.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I am not inclined to trust the woman I love when she’s pressing a gun to her head.”

She almost broke at that. Tears stung at the blaster burn on her cheek but she remained steady, insisting, “It’s the only way this can work. You know this.”

“Tell me you’re getting out of this,” he demanded. She could see that he was in no mood to broker a compromise. She either had a plan, or she didn’t.

Forcing every bit of conviction she had, and it wasn’t much, she replied. “I’m getting out of this. Now go. Please.”

He didn’t buy it. Of course he didn’t. But it was enough. Yon-rogg hoisted his unconscious Skrull ally over his shoulders. Talos was no light weight, but Yon-rogg was Kree and more than capable of carrying someone his own weight and above. With ease that would startle her if he had been human, he then carefully deposited Talos on the edge. And before she could react, he lunged at her, and crushed their lips together. It was a desperate kiss, the final kind. 

“Come back to me,” he said as he drew back. “Commander’s order.”

“O- okay,” she offered back, hardly able to look at him. Better that neither mentioned the obvious fact that she had very small chances of following that ‘order’.

As Yon-rogg climbed up, Carol threw a glance at Ronan, but the Accuser hadn’t moved. He simply stood where he’d stopped, never turning his eyes away from her. 

Yon-rogg once again lifted Talos limp form over his shoulders. Strangely shocked that he was actually about to do what she’d asked him to, Carol suddenly wanted to stall him. It was irrational - there was no time. 

“Yon!” she called. He turned, slow in his movement due to the extra weight. She looked up at him. Still aiming the blaster at herself, she gave her confession. “I love you too.”

Now it was he who looked like he would break, but he kept it together. “I’ll come back for you. No matter what, I promise I’ll get you out.” She knew he meant it. But he didn’t know that he wouldn’t have to. He left with his burden, walking fast and never looking back. A Kree carrying a Skrull to safety. What a sight to behold.

Then she was alone with Ronan. The Accuser jumped down and stalked over to her, stopping so close she had to bend her head backwards to meet his gaze. She didn’t resist as he flung the blaster from her grip and declared, “I’ll make sure that traitor becomes your first target, along with whatever world dares to host him.”

She forced herself to remain calm, calculating her next move. Was there any way for her to find out if the cannon was actually sabotaged? If it was fired now, would it blow up as she hoped it would? She glanced toward the control boards, wishing she had paid more attention while she was strung up for hours and hours on end, but she’d been too preoccupied with the pain to care much for anything else.

“Looking for something?” Ronan asked, turning to follow her gaze. 

Carol opened her mouth to say something, but closed it. Something moved on the edge of her vision, in the shadows along the far right wall. Was someone else here? But the answer came to her as soon as she’d asked herself the question. It was Vorik. It had to be. Who could creep through the ship unseen, knowing every turn and bend, every shaft and secret entrance to every area? 

Ronan was watching her, and Carol lowered her gaze, looking to the side as if the tattered pieces of tech along the wall were suddenly interesting. 

“What?” Ronan asked. “The fight’s gone out of you?”

She bared her teeth in a snarl. “Oh, I’ll fight you.”

This seemed to please him. “You’ll have your chances at that, once you’ve been... corrected. I’ll make you the greatest Accuser this Empire has ever known. Entire worlds will bow to you.”

The words were spoken with awe and promise, but Carol only shuddered. But his wistful tone gave her an idea. _Some things are alike everywhere, I guess,_ she mused. Powerful men love to think they control you. Even when they don’t.

“What will happen… after?” she asked, and there was no need to fake a tremor of her voice because the mere thought of being put under the Supremor’s control again made her want to vomit. 

“You’ll be assigned to the Accuser corps, naturally,” Ronan told her, his confidence swelling. “You’ll train, study and serve the Empire. It will be as it should have from the start.”

While Ronan spoke, Carol looked to the shadows again. Vorik moved soundlessly, like a cat in the night. What was he up to? she wondered, but assumed that here, right now, they were still on the same side. At least, she prayed they were.

Ronan began to back away and she had to think quickly of another question. “Wait, what about Starforce? Won’t there be one?”

“Those traitorous scum,” Ronan muttered derisively. “If the Supreme Intelligence demands it I suppose a new team might be formed. But I doubt it. Operatives in Starforce have a history of displaying too much… independence, for the Supremor’s liking. And mine.”

She nodded as if contemplating this. Another thought occurred to her, something she genuinely wanted an answer to. “What will happen to their families? Att-las has a father and a sister, Yon-rogg has family on Hala too and Ta-rinn I’m not sure about.”

The Accuser seemed far less interested in this topic, than of talking about her future, it seemed. “If they are guilty of collaboration they will be punished. If not, the Empire will simply send its condolences.”

She jerked upright. “They’ll say they’re dead?”

“In the eyes of the Empire, they are.”

Of course, she realized and again felt embarrassed by how naive she’d been in her former life. Not once had she heard of anything like a Kree “resistance” or anyone who in any way opposed the current rule. There were no bounties, no open trials, nothing that could tip off the general populace that there might be hundreds, probably thousands, of defectors from the Empire. Instead, they were reported dead, and discreetly hunted down and eliminated. Like Mar-vell had been.

By now, the shadow that was Vorik had reached the main control board. Carol held her breath. What was he doing?

A screeching sound of moving metal was her only warning before she was pulled into a brutal whirlwind, up, out and away. Disoriented, she instinctively pushed power into her feet and hands, just enough to steady herself mid space. It hurt of course, but thankfully the action required only a minimal output. Baffled, she looked back at the Vindicator’s shattered front screen. Vorik had opened the blast shield! She could see him now, standing behind the main control.

At least she didn’t have to worry about Ronan anymore. The Accuser was but a quickly retreating form in orbit, propelled away by the powerful exhaust.

She spotted a small ship leaving the Vindicator. Yon-rogg and Talos. She relaxed a little. 

Vorik was looking at her now and waved his hand in a mock greeting. She couldn’t see his face because of the distance and his suit’s atmospheric seal, but she was pretty sure he would be leering at her, having outsmarted her and Ronan both. Then he moved to engage some other control. She hoped he would make an attempt to escape and maneuver the Vindicator away from certain destruction, but he just remained where he was, waiting, staring rigidly at the planet below. 

The cannon, she realized. He had fired the cannon.

Even though he was the enemy, she suddenly wanted to warn him. She gestured wildly, motioning for him to move away, out, go! For a few moments, nothing happened. Vorik looked around, perplexed. He moved towards the pit as if to check something. And the Vindicator turned into a sun. _Her_ power, Carol realized, as she spent her last strength protecting herself from the blazing heat that would otherwise fry her alive.

When it was over, nothing but glowing scrap remained of the Skrull cruiser, and Carol was spent. Her heart hammered so furiously it seemed it would give up any moment. Racked with pain, she was unable to produce even the tiniest spark. Maybe her suit had ruptured, too. It didn’t matter to her. She’d done it. Her friends had made it out, or were about to do so. The weapon was gone. Hala was saved. A swell of relief made her smile despite the pain. Until she witnessed a long line of Accuser warships exiting Hala’s jump point. 

Her vision blurred and everything went black. 

***

Soren woke up lying on a hard grate floor, her hands bound. 

“Get up, lizard.” Someone pushed on her with a boot.

She panicked, looking around wildly. She was on a ship. Two armed Kree stood on each side of her. “How did I get here?” she asked.

They didn’t answer, but simply dragged her to her feet and led her through the hallways. Soren breathed erratically as her panic rose. How had she been captured - again? And in that case, what had happened to the rest? To Talos? Tank? Carol?

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, desperate this time.

A door opened, revealing a dark room with a single light source in its middle. A circular pool of white showing two sets of restraints, tied to the floor with wires.

She fought with all she had but the strength of her captors was too much and she ended up being dragged by her wrists and ankles into the light, just as she had last time.

_Last time._

She turned around to look after the Kree guards as they left. “I can’t get over how creepy they look,” one commented.

“Wait until after it’s been through questioning and you won’t eat for a week,” the other said.

 _This isn't real_ , she realized. _I’m still in the Supreme Intelligence’s simulation._

The door slid shut and Soren was alone. No, not alone. Somewhere in the darkness, Zen-tar awaited to haunt her like the nightmare they were.

“This isn’t real,” she said aloud.

There was no mistaking the satisfied purr of Zen-tar's voice as they dissolved from the shadows and approached. Looking exactly the way she remembered them. “Oh, but it is so very real. We're together again, finally.”

She closed her eyes. _This. Is. Not. Real._

Zen-tar pressed a dagger to her chin. Not real. Not real. _Not real._ "Who created the docs?"

What could she do? The Supremor couldn't harm her physical body but it could trap her and make her feel pain. It could make her live through hours, _days_ of torture. 

"Answer," Zen-tar insisted while tracing a finger over the shell of her ear. 

"The Kree," Soren budged. "Skrulls revived them."

The questions kept coming in a surreal haze. Some were important, some insignificant, the subjects mixing in an incoherent jumble. Just enough to keep her going, to force her to think of nothing but to avoid the threat of the blade. 

_Where did you grow up?_ Lanis Prime. _How did you get there?_ I was too small to remember.

Fear made her pliant. She imagined that if she didn’t fight, if she did whatever they wanted, it would stop, wouldn’t it?

 _How did you find the way to Pallakor?_ Nav charts, Tivan database. _What was the name of your first friend?_ Tank.

Tank. The name stirred something in her memory. There was something she was supposed to do here. But her mind felt so heavy, thinking was exhausting. 

“Answer the question,” Zen-tar demanded. She stared blankly at him. She hadn’t even registered what he’d asked.

“What?” she squeaked.

“The name of your planet.”

She tried to gather her befuddled thoughts. “ _Soren_. Talos… Talos named it after me.”

Talos. She had to save Talos! But how? She was stuck! She struggled against the bonds but they held tight, and now Zen-tar pushed her to her back, the blade pressing against the base of her ear. She felt the beginning of a hot pain as the edge dug into her skin.

Oh gods. He was going to cut it off. She suddenly remembered what Jagun had said. _I told them everything. They continued anyway._ She begged. “Stop!”

Zen-tar chuckled, cruel and cold, and their grip on her throat tightened until she couldn’t breathe. “You’re nothing. And now, like all of your kind, you will die. Slowly.”

Then they adjusted their grip on the dagger, preparing to cut.

Soren cried. “STOP!”

Zen-tar… stopped. He was still like a statue over her. She inched away from the blade and wriggled out of his grip. It was as if a pressure lifted off her mind and recent events came rushing back.

She tugged at her bonds. Suddenly brittle, they broke easily. She got up. Zen-tar remained crouched over the spot where she’d been, a cruel sneer frozen on their face. 

Soren turned to the door, opened it with one clear mental command, and stepped into the gray dreamscape again.

“You’re back.” the Supremor said, their voice betraying their disappointment, but they soon recovered to their usual superior mannerism. “What can I do for you?”

“Enough with your games,” Soren spat. She’d been unprepared for the AI’s attempt to distract her, using her fear to throw her off balance, but she would not let that happen again. “I don’t have time for this.”

The Supremor tilted their head to the side pensively. "Maybe something more pleasant will sedate you more efficiently? A place with your family on your precious planet? Oh, I finally know where it is now. Our operatives had been handed false intel before. But now _you_ came so willingly, all I had-" 

A feral growl interrupted the exposition. It took a moment before Soren realized that it had been _her_ making the sound. Something hot and powerful burned in her gut, electrifying her, sharpening her. She had made a conscious choice to not hate the Kree for what they’d done to her people, but that sentiment was not one she cared to waste on the _thing_ she confronted now, staring blankly at her with its venom green eyes.

“Cut the crap,” Soren hissed, letting her fury harden into control. She could _feel_ it now, like threads in her hands, able to pull and push and change at her will. “You fear us. Fear me. You want to control the truth. But you couldn’t control us. So you got rid of us.”

She gave the imaginative threads in her hand a vicious shake, shockwaves rippling out from her. The Supremor began to dissolve but she pulled the threads taught, stopping their retreat, forcing them to turn toward her again. Soren smirked. Not so fun to be on the receiving end, is it? “Now,” she said. “You’re going to do as I say.”

“Or what?” The Supremor looked so indignant it was laughable. 

“Or we’ll release the information from the Pallkor Archives to every network hub in the Kree Empire. You know what that means, right? The truth about the drocs, and the death of every Kree who lived on Pallakor following the failure of that little experiment. And most of all… the energy signatures of your homing nodes. Every single instance. For anyone to find. Wouldn’t that be fun?” Soren tilted her head at the Supremor’s unbelieving expression. “You were created there, weren’t you? The first you, at least. I did wonder why you left the place intact after the entire rest of the planet was destroyed.”

The image of her mother stilled their struggle, seeming to gather their composure. “What do you want?”

“Simple. Let my friends leave Hala. Stop your attacks on my people. Leave our new home planet alone.”

“And am I supposed to believe you will not attack my Empire after this?”

Soren shrugged. “We won’t have to. Your Empire is a broken thing, Intelligence. It only works because everyone is too afraid to question the way of things. But when you can no longer blame everything on the Skrulls, well…” She let her words trail off, leaving their implication open.

The Supremor gave her an even stare. “You won’t get away with this. Thanks to you, I know the location of your planet. Be sure I will destroy it if you go back on your word.”

Soren didn’t waver. “Call off the Kree forces. Now.”

“Agreed.” The other gave her a look that barely resembled… respect. “We’ll talk again.”

“Oh, I’m sure of that.”

When the Supremor faded away this time, Soren didn’t stop them. A moment later, she opened her eyes and collapsed into Mav’s arms, shaking uncontrollably.

“Soren,” he said, holding her steady and rubbing her back awkwardly while she slowly regained control of her limbs. He seemed as shaken as her. “You… I thought you…”

She nodded against his shoulder. “It was awful. But it’s done.”

Now, all that remained was to go to the rendezvous point and pray the others were there to meet them.

On their way to the bridge, Mav told Soren she’d been hyperventilating and shaking so hard while stuck in the simulation, he’d been certain she would die, unable to do anything but wait and watch. As for her question regarding time, it seemed it ran faster inside the Supremor’s simulation, than outside. 

At the bridge, Meret looked up from the main controls, where she was finishing the jump preparation. The young officer’s face was awed. “Just wait until everyone hears about what you’ve done, Soren.”

Soren raised her brow. Meret just grinned. “One of our own, beating up the Supremor.”

She sank down in a chair. She hadn’t considered the implication of what had surpassed. She’d just wanted a way to get Talos and the others out of harm’s way but now…

Meret finished her thought, “We’ll never have to fear the Kree again.”

Mav muttered, “They’ll find a way.”

“Perhaps,” Soren said with a small, hopeful smile. “But so will we. Now let’s find our friends.”


	24. Salvaged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally here! The final two chapters.
> 
> It’s been weeks of work, because I’ve been busy not just with these chapters, but also updating previous chapters with little nuggets of information and scenes that I felt were important to make the story feel whole. Most updates don’t make a huge difference, but here are the ones that do:
> 
> Chapter 1: Recoil. Yon-rogg’s scene with the SI is now rewritten. It has quite a different angle now, as he is basically told that he is Carol’s weakness because she still cares for him.
> 
> Chapter 3: Lies. Laying some more groundwork for Yon-rogg and establishing his family history on Hala. It’s toward the end, just before his dream.
> 
> Chapter 9: Safe house. Some time ago, I removed a scene at the beginning where Soren showed Talos that she had got a contraception implant because she didn’t want to become pregnant at the moment. Turns out, this scene was important to the story after all, so now it’s back.
> 
> Every chapter: On-sar is now an Admiral instead of General. There are certainly enough Generals in this fic. I have thought about making that change for a long, long time and now it’s done.

She drifted, weightless, in and out of consciousness. Someone shook her gently. A tinny but familiar voice sounded through her comm.

_ “Car-ol!”  _ Att-lass? 

She saw only a blue-ish haze, but the fact that she’d opened her eyes seemed to be enough confirmation to the other. She felt a tug as something hauled them in. Weight was suddenly returned to her, an unwelcome change as it once again set every pain receptor in her body on fire. However, at the back of her mind, she realized it also meant safety. 

“I’ve got her. Let’s move!” Att-lass called out.

_ “Copy that,”  _ Ta-rinn’s voice on the comm returned.

Carol was lifted into an embrace, one arm around her back, one under her knees. Her head lolled to the side and collided against Att-lass’s armored shoulder as he began walking. She was vaguely aware of several bodies moving around them. Someone was crying. She could do nothing but hang slack in Att-lass’s arms, close her eyes and wish for unconsciousness to claim her again.

“Car-ol. You still there?” Att-lass carefully set her down on a padded surface while supporting both of them against a sudden change in the ship’s movement. 

_ “Att-lass!” _ His comm sounded again. _ “The Accusers are moving away.” _

“Why would they do that?” Att-lass asked, perplexed.

_ “Well I’m not about to stop and ask. Hold on.” _

The exchange made no sense to Carol, all she wanted was to not be in pain anymore. “Dose me,” she begged, still with her eyes shut.

Another movement rocked them as the Aegis accelerated hard. Att-lass threw an arm over her and held her steady. Carol groaned. “Hurts… so much,” she gritted out.

_ “ETA jump point two minutes.” _

"Affirmative.” Att-lass returned. As the ship’s thrust evened out, he released her, and a moment later there was a sting in her neck followed by a welcome numbness. She opened her eyes, finding herself in the Aegis’s medbay. Att-lass stood bent over her, eyes wide with concern.

“I have to get back to cockpit, will you be okay?”

Worry came over her with a chill. “What about Yon-rogg and Talos?” 

“They’re right behind us.”

The final tension in her snapped like a taut string, and everything fell away into blessed darkness.

***

Slowly, slowly Carol resurfaced. At first, she was only aware of the weight of her body accompanied by a dull ache, informing her that she was indeed still alive. She opened her eyes and looked up into a green-gray metal composite ceiling. Her suit had been removed and replaced with a soft hospital gown, and on top of that, a blanket. Her arms and hands were wrapped in bandages from her knuckles to her shoulder. The skin beneath felt raw. Something cold and wet covered the blaster burn on her cheek. Cooling gel, probably.

Someone stirred beside her, a weight changing on the mattress. She blinked, peering down, her vision slow to focus. Familiar eyes met hers, accompanied by a tight-lipped smile. 

"Yon," she whispered. 

“Welcome back.” He sounded raspy from sleep. He took her hand in his, gingerly, like handling broken glass. “How are you feeling?”

“Where are we?” she asked instead. Events came rushing back and with it, alarm. “What happened? Where are the others?”

“Easy,” he soothed, laying a hand on her middle as she began to move the blanket aside. She pushed his hand away and propped herself up, finally able to look around, and gaped.

She was in one out of four small rooms adjoining the Mar-vell’s medbay. Beyond the open door, she could see the row of medicine cabinets in the main room. She turned to stare at Yon-rogg, who had remained where he was, calmly waiting on a stool. He wasn’t wearing armor, just casual wear; typical Kree wrap-around shirt and black trousers. Nor was he carrying a weapon. He didn’t look like he was expecting any danger.

“Talos... is he alive?” she asked breathlessly. Even the simple action of sitting up felt strenuous. 

“Yes. He is still asleep. The surgery took a few hours, but he will be fine, says Ta-rinn. She and Att-lass are back on the Aegis.”

She let out a long, relieved breath. 

“Did you do it?” he asked. There was an edge to his voice. When she didn’t immediately answer, he added, “Did you mean to blow up the cruiser?”

Carol thought for a moment, but there was no navigating around it. She met his gaze. “Yes. I didn’t see another way. I knew I couldn’t save everyone, but I could save you and Talos.”

Then she told him what she’d done. About sabotaging the cannon, about the choice to use her own life as leverage, and the unexpected ending of it all. His expression remained intent but otherwise unreadable. 

“It was an impossible situation,” she added, as if that needed clarifying.

“I understand,” he said, the words slow and reluctant. “I didn’t like one bit of it, but I understand.”

“You would have done the same."

Another tight-lipped smile. “Probably.”

Her throat felt dry after speaking for so long. “Could I have some water?”

"Or course." He left the room and reappeared a moment later with a mug. She gulped the water in one go and wiped her mouth with her bandaged hand. Yon-rogg took the mug and set it on the side table.

“So where are we now?” she asked.

“Above C-fif… Earth. There was some mopping up to do after Veranke’s agents, apparently. I wasn’t let in on the details.”

While speaking, he took a folded blanket from the foot end of her bed and tucked it behind her back. She leaned back and sighed.

“Can hardly blame them,” she quipped with a wry smile.

To her surprise, he mirrored her expression. “Guess so.”

He seemed so  _ relaxed _ . It was almost an exotic look on him. She couldn’t stop staring, taking in this new but familiar person who she had known so well and yet not at all. Her eyes trailed down to the place where Veranke had shot him and her amusement faded. He lifted a hand to rub at the spot. 

“You should be dead,” she said as the memory of crying over his limp form echoed inside her. The quick aid she’d given him would slow his heartbeat, lower blood pressure and encourage blood coagulation, but it wasn’t enough.

He shifted, his gaze distant. “I came to for a moment, just enough to activate my beacon. Then I woke up in some kind of underground base, stitched up and shackled.” He smiled, nodding to himself as if acknowledging the obvious irony. “I had been given blood. Yours. That and what passes for surgery on your homeworld was what saved me."

Carol was amazed. She had entirely forgotten about that detail. Fury had insisted she would leave a deep frozen supply in case she was ever wounded. It wasn’t like they could give her anything from a regular blood bank. 

_ My _ blood, she thought. Not his. She found that idea appealing. Like he belonged to  _ her _ now. 

But speaking of injuries, it was time she examined her own. She looked down at her bandaged arms. “Can you help me get this off?”

He helped her unwrap the bandage, carefully, wary of any fabric that might have gotten stuck. Carol was prepared, she’d seen the burns while on board the Vindicator, but she couldn’t help grimacing at the view. The skin was mostly healed, but around her wrists and upper arms, bands of angry red showed where the clasps had been. She touched the skin gingerly with her fingertips. There would be scars.

“Scans showed internal burns,” he said quietly. “It was the same as when-” he paused, hesitating.

“As when you abducted me?”

He cast down his gaze, nodding. Didn’t even contradict her. 

Back then, she had been actively dying before she was given the blood transfusion. Of course, the resulting transformation of her DNA and the color of her blood had been necessary to conceal the truth of her origin, but initially, it had simply been a matter of saving her life. That card could only be played once, however. Kree blood could fix up a human, but not another Kree. What she was experiencing now was something else.

She held up her hands with her fingers splayed in front of her, frowning at them as if they had betrayed her. Channeling a little power, she felt the by now all too familiar pain reemerge. “Damn it!” she cursed, slamming her hands down. She threw her head back against the folded blanket, staring frustratedly into the ceiling. 

“Maybe you should wait,” he suggested carefully.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m broken,” she muttered sullenly. That was exactly what it felt like. During the struggle on the Vindicator, and mostly while protecting herself from the blast, she’d begun to notice the difference. It felt like the power didn’t  _ want _ her. She’d call for it like she always did, but now it boiled her blood, fizzling out in a torrent of agony. It wasn’t just a matter of waiting for her to heal up. Something was very, very wrong.

“Your  _ power _ is broken,” he corrected. She threw daggers at him for marking her words. “But you are more than that,” he continued, undeterred. “And you will figure it out. I know you will.”

“And what if I don’t?” she flung back, annoyed.

“Then you’ll keep doing what you do, just in a different way.” He was adamant, but there was nothing domineering about him. Just stubborn, unbending concern. The same he showed when he had told her to sleep and eat even at the point when they hardly looked at each other. 

A lump formed in her throat, but she deflected the emotion with a forced grin. “Well. I could certainly use some help in that case.”

He gave her a long look that she couldn’t guess what it meant. She became uncomfortable, too aware that her comment had raised a bigger question between them:  _ What now? _

She was about to say that she understood if he had other priorities, like his family and what remained of Starforce, when he said:

“Whatever you want.”

She blinked, not comprehending. “What?”

He moved to sit on the side of the bed, bringing them much closer together. He spoke quietly, but there was a raw emotion on his face that was almost overwhelming to see. “There will never be balance between us. I took you from your family with no intention of ever letting you return. l risked the destruction of your home. In return, you just saved mine.” He swallowed, running the tip of his tongue over his lips. “I owe you everything. You must know this.”

Carol’s heart made double beats. Her breath hitched. She leaned forward, and kissed him. He made a needy sound, and then his hands were on her, one in her hair and the other on her waist. 

Mine, her heart thrummed triumphantly.  _ Mine. _

A very loud, very distinct _Meeeeeooowww!_ sounded. Carol untangled herself from Yon-rogg and looked over his shoulder at Goose, who sat in the doorway, looking at them as if they’d been caught doing something untoward. 

Smiling made the wound on her cheek stretch uncomfortably, but she did so anyway. “Goose..? How are you here?”

“The stubborn animal wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Maria rounded the doorpost and stopped abruptly. Her eyebrows shot up, amused. “Should I come back later?”

Yon-rogg leaned back a little from Carol, wiping off some cooling gel that had smeared on his face. Quiety, only to Carol, he said, “I have to check on the team. But I’ll be back.” He gave her uninjuried cheek a caress, rose and made for the door at a slightly faster pace than his usual gait, giving Goose a wide berth.

In the doorway, he and Maria locked eyes for a moment, some kind of recognition passing between them that left Carol puzzled. Then Goose stroked against his legs and he jolted backwards. Carol suppressed a snigger.

“Don’t worry,” said Maria, also smiling. “If she didn’t eat you then, she won’t eat you now.”

Carol was uncertain which ‘then’ Maria was referring to, but decided it didn’t matter. Goose had an uncanny way of knowing what was important to Carol. From what she’d learned of flerkens so far, they were fiercely loyal to their person. And it seemed she had become Goose’s.

“Nah, you’re a good girl, aren’t you Goose!” She gushed at the little creature, who immediately reacted to her name and jumped up on the bed, purring as Carol stroked her head. She glanced up at Yon-rogg, who looked torn between wanting to leave and worry for her safety, and assured him, “It’s fine, Yon. I promise.”

He seemed to force himself to relax. “If you say so.” He looked at Goose and shook his head with a sceptical frown. She thought she heard him mutter something about ‘not a pet’ as he walked away.

“So,” Maria said as she walked to the bed, taking the stool that had previously been occupied by Yon-rogg. “I was given the short version of events by Soren, but…”

“Soren?!” Carol sat upright. “She’s here? Alive?”

Maria grinned. “Aye. Alive and kicking ass, I’d say. She’s really taking to queening her people around, I’ll tell you that. They all follow her lead like little adoring fans.”

Another massive wave of relief brought Carol close to tears again, but she swallowed, briefly explaining. “Last thing I heard, she was taken prisoner by the Kree.”

“She was. Then Talos traded your new boyfriend for her. Whole bunch of aliens making a prisoner exchange in the Mojave desert. What a week.” She chucked. 

“You and Yon-rogg seemed to know each other,” Carol probed. 

Maria smirked and nodded. “We spoke. A little zealous, but not a bad catch, if he’s come around on that point. Monica took quite a shine to your alien, you know. And speaking of Monica, I think I’m hearing-” Maria turned to the door, where yet another familiar face appeared.

“Auntie Carol!” Monica chirped and bound across the room to Carol, landing with a light bounce on the bed, opposite to Maria. “I was delayed, because, well -  _ spaceship _ .” The girl nodded, looking important. “It’s pretty awesome here. I think I might need to do this more often.”

It was impossible not to smile at that. “How did you get to come along?”

“Oh,” Monica said, full of mischief. “I told mom what kind of role model she’d be if she kept me from exploring the world because it's 'too dangerous'. I mean, it's not like it's war this time around."

"You know, for a thirteen year old, you're awfully casual about leaving Earth to visit an alien spacecraft," Carol remarked.

Monica's grin didn't waver. "Look at yourselves. Can you blame me?" And that was an argument Carol had no retort to.

Picking up their previous conversation, Carol asked, "So what happened back on Earth? Talos said the whole alien invasion was dealt with."

Maria answered, "Pretty much. His people, mostly the one called Mav, helped track down and disable a whole lot of weird alien IEDs. Mostly in the US."

Carol said darky, "Veranke made a point of how well she knew what was important to me."

"She just didn't realize how many friends you also have," Maria said and Carol noted how her friend looked at her with concern, a crease forming on her brow.

"Do I really look that bad?" Carol asked wryly, moving a hand to her cheek.

"I just thought about, you know…"

"The crash," Monica filled in. "Mom's been having nightmares about it again."

Maria gave her daughter a startled look. Monica shrugged. "We share a room on the base. I heard you talk in your sleep."

The crash. The day everything changed. Maria had been stuck in the control room then, knowing something had happened but not what. Not so unlike recent events. Carol could only imagine what kind of helplessness Maria must have felt, then as well as now. 

She reached for her little family. "Come here."

They hugged for a long, long time. 

Once they had detangeled and all tears were wiped, Carol asked, "So what's Fury up to?" 

Maria answered, "Just the usual heroics. Hunting down aliens and covering up the mess they create. He's hoping to see you at my place tomorrow afternoon. We’re having a barbeque."

Carol's mood perked up. "Who else is invited?"

"You mean to say 'can I bring my alien boyfriend'?"

"Well. Can I?"

"Can she?" Monica chimed in with a sweet voice.

"Actually," Maria smiled, "Fury and I were kind of hoping for a reunion but for obvious reasons, Talos isn’t going anywhere and Soren says neither is she. But Mav's coming, and his boyfriend, and Tank, and she made a case for the Kree, so…" Maria shrugged, as if things were now out of her control.

"I wish their daughter was here," Monica complained.

"Oh you mean Indes? Isn't she coming?" Carol asked.

"Nah," Maria said and stroked Monica's curls. "Soren said they'll rendezvous at a Skrull ship with a weird name I can’t pronounce. It’s safer for her that way. They aren’t sure yet if they’ve just kicked a hornet’s nest, or if things will calm down.”

“What hornet’s nest?”

Maria’s eyes twinkled. “I’m not surprised he didn’t tell you. Soren walked into the Supreme Intelligence and whipped its ass. Well, metaphorically at least.”

Carol was at a loss. “How? When?”

“You’ll have to ask Soren for details. Like I said, I just got the recap.”

It seemed a lot had been going on in the time she’d been strung up on the Vindicator. Every new revelation made it feel like she’d been gone for weeks instead of days. For a moment, even the issue of her malfunctioning powers seemed small in comparison. 

“I can’t fly anymore,” she said bluntly. “Something happened to me when Veranke used my power.”

It felt silly to complain about losing god-like powers but there it was; it defined her in so many ways. But Maria just smiled wryly. “It’s a good thing then you’re such a crack pilot, isn’t it?”

That brought a smile to Carol. Of course she’d fly again.  _ Just in a different way. _ She looked down at her hospital gown. “You didn't happen to bring me some clothes did you? All my stuff blew up with the Chevy. Fav jeans, cobain t-shirt, my new converses…” She sighed, remembering. “Jacket too.”

“Blew… up?” The amusement was gone from Maria’s face. 

“Yeah, it’s a long story and not a particularly nice one. A friend of mine died. I shouldn't whine over a stupid jacket." An uncomfortable tightness in her chest made her regret the mention of Bronn-char. She wiped an eye with the back of her hand, giving Monica a worried glance. “Sorry. I know you kept it safe for years for me.”

“It’s just a thing,” Monica said serenely.

“You’re absolutely right,” Carol agreed with a teary smile. 

Goose was purring like an engine in her lap and she absent-mindedly resumed stroking the creature. She didn’t want to think about what had been lost right now. She had her family. She had Yon-rogg, Talos and Soren. They too were a family of a sorts. If she’d have to choose between them and her powers, the choice was an easy one. At the end of the day, she felt like she’d won.

***

Yon-rogg entered the Aegis only to find the remainder of his crew asleep together. He immediately averted his eyes, but not before he'd seen Att-lass holding Ta-rinn tightly, the small bunk allowing no space between the two warriors.

He went to medbay, where On-sar's body lay fixed in the med pod to prevent it from degrading before the rites were performed, and the body cremated. The Admiral had been cleaned and dressed. Lying with her chin tucked to her chest, the lethal throat cut didn't show. It looked like she was just in cryo.

He would never know what part, if any, On-sar played in the Supreme Intelligence's ploy to use him to capture Carol and Talos . But he understood the lengths she had gone to to protect her people.  _ For the good of all Kree. _ He placed his hand on the glass. How many like her were there throughout the Empire, high and low ranking Kree alike, who silently cursed the Accuser’s unquestionable dominance, all under a facade of so called justice?

“We’ve made ourselves prisoners, haven’t we?” he said quietly to the dead woman. “Each of us alone with our doubts. Our fears.” He drew a deep breath, a shiver passing through him, goosebumps on his arms. “I will free them. I will end the Supreme Intelligence. I will find a way to peace for our people. I promise.”

The vow resounded with unnatural force through the small space. He felt another chill. He was a defector now. Completely and fully so, in action as well as belief. But there was one final goodbye he had to make. 

He went to the cockpit, sat in the pilot chair and opened the communicator interface. He closed his eyes, focusing a moment, before starting the recording. 

“Father. By the time you receive this the Accuser corps will have declared me dead or defected. It is not what I wanted, only how it went. I found Vers.” His tone became wistful, and he didn’t care to hide it. “You’d like her. She’s the bravest person I’ve ever known.” 

It was difficult to keep his voice level. In any likelihood, this was the last time his father would hear of him. He imagined Vel-Rogg watching his message and, like the former Enforcer he was, curl his mouth in disgust and turn it off before it even finished.

“The Accuser corps have probably seized my assets at this point. If they haven’t they will soon. But since a few years back, I have had an account opened in your name as well as mine.” He rattled off the information necessary for his father to access it. “It should be enough to keep you well provided. Just stop betting on those stupid races. You know they’re all rigged, right?”

He swallowed against a burn in his eyes. “Don’t tell Ty or his family anything. It’s not worth the risk. You’ll likely be summoned, if you haven’t already. But nothing I’ve told you here is enough to incriminate you, if you just agree to denounce me openly.”

There were so many things he wanted to say, explanations he wanted to give, but those were too dangerous. The less his father knew of his motivations and his plans, the better.

“Take care of yourself. And live well.”

He ended the recording and opened a link to the homeworld network. His access had not been blocked. Why would it? The Kree leadership would want to know who he was trying to communicate with. The recording was transmitted without hindrance.

With that done, he left the Aegis and its two sleeping inhabitants to return to Carol. He felt light, energetic even. Like for the first time in a long while, he had something to look forward to. Purpose had always been what fueled him, and right now, he felt like he could do anything.

***

Talos had been certain that he would die. It seemed like a reasonable assumption, given the fact that he had just been stabbed twice, on a ship with an Accuser onboard. So when he woke up in the Mar-vell’s medbay, anaesthetic dulling his pain and Soren hovering over him like some glorious hallucination, he’d smiled, thankful beyond words to be still alive.

Soren explained what had happened, how he had been thrice saved; by Carol, Yon-rogg and lastly Ta-rinn’s deft surgeon hands. There seemed to be a consensus that he had tried to help Veranke when she had stabbed him. He didn’t correct them. It wasn’t completely untrue, and better that no one knew how close he had been to doing something fatal and entirely irreversible. Some things were better buried.

He went in and out of sleep - mostly sleep - allowing his body to rest as it pleased. 

Eventually, Carol showed up, standing in the doorway to his room. She looked sad. An angry red gash marked her cheek, and her wrists and arms had ugly looking burns as well. Her clothes were Kree-cut, probably something she’d gotten from Starforce. 

“Hi,” she greeted, pressing her lips into a thin line. He felt the weight of their last conversations like a cold blanket.

“Hi,” he echoed, and tried for a slight smile. “Thanks for saving me.”

She remained standing in the doorway, studying her slipper-clad foot. “Talos, I-”

“Carol,” he interrupted before she went on into some stupid excuse she shouldn’t have to make. “I meant what I said. I am sorry.”

She looked at the roof, the wall, anywhere but him, with that glassy look he recognized so well by now. “I saw him, Talos. The Skrull they tortured. Just a glimpse but...” She closed her eyes. “Soren told me who he was. He led the Kree to her."

“You didn’t know,” Talos said, but already knew that didn’t encompass what she was trying to say.

She finally walked over to him, sitting down beside the bed. “Oh, I did know. But the things Veranke had made him do, spreading that virus, all those people killed… I didn’t care what they’d do to him. I thought he deserved it.” She looked miserable. Ashamed.

Talos’s heart sank even lower. “You know,” he said slowly. “I wasn’t really trying to save Veranke. That’s not what happened.”

Carol looked up, confusion in her eyes. 

His gut burned with shame and regret, but Carol deserved to know. She deserved to understand how easy it was to slip, and that she was not alone. “The cannon - Mar-vell's weapon - was ready to fire. And I was going to do it. Veranke talked me into it, but I made the choice alone. It was ready, but I hesitated. We fought, and that’s when she…” He looked at his stomach.

Carol seemed to shrug off whatever surprise his revelation had caused. “It doesn’t matter now. You didn’t do it.”

He looked intently at her. “But I  _ wanted _ to. For a moment.”

They studied each other for a long while. Then Carol nodded, breaking eye contact. “I can understand why you didn’t tell the others. Why me?”

He smiled wryly. “We agreed, Carol. About honesty.” 

She smiled back and some of the tension lifted. 

“Some King I make,” he huffed, chuckling at the irony. “History will not remember me, I think.”

“‘Having power and  _ not _ using it, is sometimes the strongest statement.’” Carol quoted.

“Mar-vell,” Talos mumbled, thoughtful. It had been a long time ago, but he remembered. Funny that Carol had apparently heard her say the same thing.

“Do you think she’d be proud of us?”

Without hesitation, he said, “I think she’d be very proud of you.”

Her hand found his. He gave it a squeeze. They sat like that for a while, in comfortable silence. Then they talked like they used to; easily, exchanging quips and jokes. They spoke about the future, about their planet and what he and Soren wanted to build there. 

The hours passed. Carol had left to visit Maria shortly after they spoke. The Mar-vell’s medbay was suddenly very quiet, and Talos was becoming impatient.

Even just sitting up made his head spin. Ignoring his body’s protests, he placed one bare foot on the floor, then the other. Resting would speed the healing but it would also drive him insane, so up he went.

Not that he was particularly worried about anything. From what he had gathered, Soren had been running things smoothly. Not even the presence of Starforce seemed to bother anyone, as the wayward Kree had more than proven their loyalty. Fascinating how fast something previously unthinkable could become normality. 

He leaned heavily on the bed frame, wincing as he reached down to grab one of his boots.

Hurried steps approached. Something soft was dropped on the floor, and then Soren took his arm and helped him sit back on the bed, giving him a stern look. “I said I would be back shortly.”

He grabbed her waist and pulled her into a kiss.

“Scoundrel,” she muttered before kissing him back.

“I’m also still half naked,” he teased, desperate to ignore the stabbing pain from the half-healed wounds in his abdomen. 

“True. I aim to remedy that,” she looked over her shoulder to a bundle of clothes on the floor.

So she had meant to get him out of bed, after all. She bent down to retrieve a shirt.

“Arms up,” she said, bemused, as if she were dressing a toddler.

He grimaced and obeyed, although it stretched the torn muscles on his belly. The shirt came on and he sighed of relief as the pain subsided. “What are the others up to?”

She fitted a pair of pants over his feet and he rose, steadying himself with a hand on her shoulder as she pulled them up to his waist. “I gave everyone a day’s leave.”

“Oh? Where to?” He winced and sat down again, immediately relieved.

“Most are still on the Mar-vell, of course. But Tank, Mav and Jorias and the Kree went with Carol planetside.” Soren reached around him as she tucked his shirt inside the pant’s lining. 

“How’s Tank holding up?” The humor was gone now. Jez had died on the Vindicator, along with four others. Everyone in the hangar team had volunteered, but still, Talos felt the weight of the deaths on his conscience. 

Soren stilled in her movement, belt buckle in her hand. “She’s… well, she doesn’t show it, but I know Jez’s death is crushing her. You should do this, don’t set it too tight.”

Talos took the buckle, setting it loose so it didn’t press against the injury. “And Mav? Jez was his brother, wasn’t he?”

She arranged his boots so that he easily put them on from where he sat. “He’s got Jorias. He’ll be fine.” 

Right. Their Kree chef. Talos remembered his and Tank’s awkward conversation on the bridge, and it made him feel petty-minded in hindsight. 

“It’s been good knowing you’ve kept things running,” he said appraisingly. 

Soren had no formal authority, but he was not surprised by the way everyone regarded her as one. She was the King’s mate, after all.

She looked down, looking abashed. “I know I have no right-”

“You have every right,” he interrupted, pulling her close, pressing his forehead to hers. “You saved us.”

She bit her lip. “I still don’t completely understand what happened in the simulation. Feels like some kind of dream. Like it only happened in my head.” 

“I do,” he assured. “Maybe not the technical part of it, but this-” he pointed to her chest where her heart was. “And this-” He moved his finger to her temple. 

“Stop,” she said, and lowered his hand, looking seriously at him. “I don’t need a speech, Talos.”

He stilled. Her words were gently spoken but the message was clear. There was a shift in the balance between them. As if they’d stood on a sloping plane that had slowly righted itself, ever since their reunion on the Mar-vell. The woman he’d been mated to was gone, just as the man she’s chosen was changed.  _ This _ Soren was far stronger and more self reliant than he’d given her credit for.

As if she knew his thoughts, she smiled and something coy entered her expression. “Also I can think of a better use of our time alone.”

A grin spread on his face. “I’m not sure how useful I am to you.”

She helped him stand up, letting him lean on her. “I have some ideas.”

He sighed dramatically. “All this trouble of getting myself dressed, and for what?”

“Oh shut up and let me take care of you.”

“Yes, mam.”

When they arrived in their room, Soren helped him lay down and he sighed as his body could finally relax. She climbed on top and kissed him. He trailed his hands down her sides, continuing underneath her trousers. As he caressed her smooth hips, it occurred to him that hadn’t felt the little ridge that was the contraception implant. 

“Soren,” he whispered, uncertain. “Are you sure..?”

“Yes.” She kissed him again. “Yes, I am sure.”


	25. Starlit

The first stars were appearing in the eastern sky, as evening turned into night. Carol leaned back lazily in the folding chair and took a drink from her beer bottle. Beside her, Fury did the same. The others had gone inside, and the muted sounds of their voices could be heard through the back porch's screen door. 

Carol had asked Yon-rogg to help Maria prepare some snacks in the kitchen. Partly because he actually knew how to cook as opposed to herself, but mostly because she wanted Maria and Yon-rogg to have a reason to talk. He and Monica had connected immediately, but Maria still gave him guarded looks.

Fury had told Carol all the turns and twists of what had happened on Earth when she was gone. It had been a crazy week, put mildly, but Fury didn’t appear tired in the least. Instead, he seemed invigorated, like he needed the occasional secret alien invasion the way others needed coffee. 

Carol turned to Fury, asking with a smirk, “So how did your boss handle Talos showing up?”

Fury pursed his lips, holding back a smile. “It was, uh... a little tense.”

Carol laughed. “I’d have given anything to see you tell Keller that you were about to host a bunch of Skrulls and a half-dead Kree on your top sec base. Including _the_ Skrull who stole his identity.”

“Borrowed,” he corrected, taking Talos’s side even in his absence.

“Fair enough. So what convinced him?"

Fury’s eyes glittered with mischief. “Well. What is it that you always say? ‘Better ask forgiveness than permission?’”

Carol gawked. “You didn’t _ask_? And you still have a job?”

“Kind of hard to argue against a decision that led to a successful outcome.” He shrugged, grinning nonchalantly, taking another sip of his beer. This was one of the reasons she and Fury had clicked instantly. It wasn’t that he didn’t take things seriously, but he had seen and done enough to not fuss over every detail.

She looked down at her own, now empty, beer bottle. “Thanks for cleaning up another mess for me.”

“My pleasure.” Fury had mistaken her words for a joke. But for once, she needed to be serious. 

“I kinda feel that maybe Earth would be better off if I just stayed away.” It was something she had thought a great deal about since waking up after the battle. No matter how strong she was, her ties to her homeworld would always make it a target. 

Fury gave her a long look. “That’s a load of rubbish if I ever heard one,” he said firmly, then laughed to himself, shaking his head. “The things I could tell you about my time spying during the Cold War… But the gist of it, I guess, is that just because something is your _responsibility_ , doesn’t make it your _fault_.” 

Carol suddenly felt very young, space soldier or not. Fury was right. Trouble had come to Earth seven years ago. Perhaps it found them even before then, with the Tesseract being here. She was just the last in a long line of incidents, all part of a greater war they still knew very little about.

“So what happens now?” she asked. “Any progress with the Avengers Initiative?”

“There’s that,” Fury agreed with a nod. “And working with Talos’s team has apparently granted me support for an advanced weapons and intelligence programme.”

“What kind of intelligence?”

“The exchanged kind. Us and the Skrulls have a common interest in keeping the Kree Empire off our backs. This is the second time they have threatened us, and we need to be better prepared.”

“Does that mean I’ll be able to comm you properly from now on?”

“It means exactly that. Still, I kind of like the feel of the old pager.”

“Keep it,” she said decidedly. “Bring it with you, wherever you go.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

Goose appeared from under Carol’s chair, purring and clamoring for attention. She stroked the creature’s fur a few times to please her.

A movement at the treeline caught her eye. She straightened in the chair. Goose moved to the edge of the porch, looking in the same direction. Carol squinted in the half darkness.

"What is it?" Fury asked, waving away a mosquito.

Carol smiled, pretending to dismiss what she’d just seen. "Probably just a raccoon. You know what? I think I’ll take a short walk. Get some time to think.”

He waved his hand again. “And I’m gonna go inside before I’m eaten.”

“Wise man.” 

Her eyes were once again drawn to the treeline, but she saw nothing. Everything was still and quiet. Goose remained on the porch, blinking at her with her feline eyes. 

"Did you see it too?" Carol quietly asked the flerken.

In response, Goose jumped down to the lawn and began walking at a sure pace, stopping once in a while to check that Carol was following.

They walked for a few minutes as night descended around them. Carol's heart made a double beat as a familiar jetty emerged in a clearing. A woman stood on the edge. Goose ran ahead, stopping by her feet.

Carol looked at them, blinked, trying to take in what she was seeing. _I'm not hallucinating this,_ she thought with half dread, half hope.

"Mar-vell?" she asked, and took a hesitant step up on the jetty.

Mar-vell turned around, smiled warmly and gave Goose a loving stroke.

Carol felt dizzy. "Was it you, the _real_ you, all the time?"

"Of course," Mar-vell said lightly. 

"I don't understand."

"That I can believe. I _am_ l bending the rules a bit, so to say." She winked, mischievous. "It's my speciality, after all."

"But, where did you come from, what happened after the crash, after-"

"Uh-uh," the Kree wagged a finger. "Non-disclosure, remember?"

Carol crossed her arms. She'd had an easier time accepting the enigmaticness of the encounters when she had thought it was just her own brain making things up.

"Oh, Ace, don't give me that look." Mar-vell waved her hand as if that would dissolve Carol's annoyance, but it served only to fan the flame.

"Why are you here then? Why didn't you tell me, you know, 'oh by the way, Veranke is going to let loose a virus that will kill millions of innocents and then use a weapon, one that I built _one hundred years ago_ , to blow up Hala.'" She was speaking loudly now, long built-up helplessness, regret and frustration cascading out. "Why didn't you _warn_ me? I could have saved them!"

Mar-vell pressed her lips together, giving Carol a sympathetic look. "That's not how this works."

"Obviously," she snapped, and regretted it the next moment. She took a long, steadying breath. “My powers are broken."

“Ah, yes. About that.” Mar-vell waved her forward. "Come. Look."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, fully anticipating another nonsensical lecture, Carol obliged, and walked to stand beside her mentor. Mar-vell looked at the sky. The stars shone with unusual brightness, but the view offered no comfort to Carol.

"I only see the sky," she said dully, not caring to mask her bitterness. How fast she'd gotten used to being able to fly, to be entirely unlimited in a way that defied all science. She looked down at the muddy water instead, even if it too reflected the sky.

Mar-vell stepped so close their shoulders brushed. “When we reach our lowest point, we are capable of the greatest change.” She lifted her hand to cover Carol’s eyes.

“What are you-” Carol protested, but then the hand was gone again, and she saw... lights. Blue rays of light reaching from everywhere, every direction, into her. She lifted her hand, watching the rays converge on her form like a giant, three-dimensional, spider’s net. “What is this?” she whispered, awed.

“Your power.”

A lump formed in her throat, her voice coming out choked. “It’s beautiful.”

Carol looked up at the sky again, and sucked in a breath. The sky above was transformed into an ocean of those same, blue lines. Crisscrossing, interlacing and connecting the stars. It seemed as if her vision had increased its resolution thousandfold, allowing her to discern details that should be impossible for any human eye to distinguish.

“The power of space,” Mar-vell explained sagely. “The literal binding matter of the Universe.”

“I have never seen it like this before,” Carol said with a small voice.

“Have you tried _sensing_ it, too?”

Carol wasn’t the spiritual type. Far from it. ‘Sensing it’ sounded way too flimsy for her predisposition. But she had nothing to lose, and so she tried. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on not what she wanted, but what she could perceive. It was like a door opened, and a new dimension unfolded before her. Instead of raw energy burning through her veins, the threads of space wove itself through her. Instead of a blazing fire, there was a _weave_.

Her power wasn’t gone. Far from it. It was simply misunderstood. She’d been using it in the same way Veranke, Vorik and to some extent even Mar-vell had. As an energy source, a potential weapon. But it was so much more. It was the connecting force of the entire Universe. And she was its conduit. 

“You weren’t really allowed to show me this, were you?” Carol said smiling, opened her eyes and turned to Mar-vell. But found no one there.

Mar-vell was gone. For some reason, it felt like this was the last time. A sense of loss filled her and she wiped one tear from each eye.

Her ability to see her power had not disappeared, however. Taking a deep breath, she finally tried to call on it again. It felt different than before. Instead of pulsing through her veins like a volcano on the verge of bursting, it flowed easily. Effortlessly. 

A mad laughter escaped her as she lifted off the ground. And then she shot towards the sky. Clouds rushed past her and it wasn’t long before the atmosphere gave way to empty space, but she continued even further until she sensed something ahead. Baffled, she realized she had encountered the transparent membrane of the jump point. The jump point network was ancient technology. According to the oldest known legends it was built by Celestial beings, many thousand years ago. Despite this, a familiar jolt resonated through her as she made contact with the membrane.

She’d never been able to travel more than short distances by herself. Traveling between systems had always required her to use a ship with a jump point drive. She had never questioned that fact, it seemed logical. But the response she got now told her otherwise. It told her she was made of the same stuff as it.

Her confidence grew, and she reached even further. The weave expanded, forming even more intricate, impossibly large networks, stretching across the Universe, and back into her hand. 

***

"A walk?" 

Yon-rogg frowned at Fury, but the Terran only nodded and walked past him.

In any case, there wasn't much he could do except wait for Carol to return. C53 wasn't a dangerous place, especially not for a Kree.

Everyone else, including Att-lass and Ta-rinn, had gathered around a bulky screen, showing a Terran ball game which he found thoroughly uninteresting. He made his way out of the dwelling to the roofed, wooden terrace, facing the grass covered area that for some unknown reason was called the 'garden'. He stopped by the edge, scanning the sparse forest for a sign of Carol, but was only met by the sounds of the night.

He sank down on the steps, elbows on his knees and hands folded together, and waited. 

Steps approached from behind and someone sat down at his side. He turned to look at the visitor, expecting one of his team-members. He wasn’t wrong.

"Commander," Minn-erva greeted.

He turned to look at the door but the only sounds were the ones from the screen and the talk of the people in the house. He turned back to Minn-erva, speaking hushedly,

“What is this?”

She scoffed, offended. "Really. This, again? Oh, and you're welcome, by the way. For saving your life and all that."

He swallowed, staring stupidly at her. She was completely lifelike, from the undercurrent of sarcasm in her voice, to the way the moonlight reflected on her rich black hair. 

“Minn,” he said slowly. “I need to know that I’m not going insane.”

She gave him a cool, slightly exasperated look. “And how, exactly, am I supposed to prove that?”

She couldn’t, of course. Perhaps it didn’t matter, he thought belatedly. Whatever this ‘version’ of Minn-erva was, she had helped him, _saved_ him. “I wouldn't have made it without you.” 

“No, you wouldn’t,” she agreed with a self-assured smile that faded a moment later. She turned towards the forest, her gaze distant.

"So what happens now?" he asked.

Something rueful entered her voice, escaping through her mask of indifference. “I’m going to leave. That’s what happens.”

"I see." His throat thickened. "Minn… I'm sorry. If I could change anything from that mission, anything at all-"

She laid her hand on his. It was warm. She looked into his eyes, a small, sad smile curving her mouth. "I know.”

He swallowed, hard. "So this is goodbye?"

"It is."

“Safe travels, Minn." It was the only thing that came to his mind; to say goodbye as if she was in for a very long leave. Only, the kind one never returned from.

Another bleak smile crossed her face. “You too, Yon-rogg." 

She rose and walked across the grass, never turning around until she eventually blended with the shadows among the trees. 

A light from above made him look up. He raised his hand to protect his eyes, but already knew what he was seeing. 

Carol descended slowly, almost regally, to the ground. The door behind Yon-rogg was abruptly flung open.

“Carol! You made it! I knew it!” Monica cheered, rushing down the steps and skidding to a stop by his side. Then, suddenly, the girl turned and hugged him around the waist, her face pressed against his chest. 

He froze, unsure how to mitigate the unabashed affection. Monica didn’t seem to notice his hesitation, but let go of him and bounced over to hug Carol instead, now that her ‘auntie’ had stopped glowing.

“What happened?” he asked, stepping closer to them. 

Monica looked up at Carol. “Yeah, did your powers just fix themselves?”

Carol looked distant a moment. “I’m not sure how to-” She furrowed her brow, looking over his shoulder, towards the forest edge.

There, Yon-rogg could see two people. One lean and tall, impossible for him to mistake for anyone but Minn-erva. The other figure he did not recognize at first, but then she moved so that moonlight revealed her face. Dread filled him for a moment, but still he was unable to look away from the woman he’d murdered. Mar-vell looked straight at him, piercing him with a solid glare. He blinked, and then both Kree were gone.

Monica’s impatient voice broke their focus. “What are you looking at?”

Neither he nor Carol replied. Carol looked to him, her eyes wide, silently asking him if he’d seen it too. At a loss for words, he nodded once. A moment of profound understanding passed between them. 

“You guys are so weird,” Monica complained. 

Carol instantly snapped back to her regular, carefree self. “Let’s go inside, shall we?”

With a meaningful nod saying ‘later’, she took one of his hands, pulling him towards the house. He turned one last time to look at the forest, but all he saw was the flerken, leisurely walking across the lawn towards them.

***

Just as it had one year ago, when Talos's family had stayed for dinner with them, having four Kree and two Skrulls over for a barbeque felt oddly normal.

Att-lass and Ta-rinn had taken residence on the sofa, Att-lass's arm casually slung over Ta-rinn's shoulders. Jorias, the Kree from Tank's crew, sat on a floor cushion beside them, sipping on a glass of wine. The three were deep in conversation, their faces serious. Carol had been told about Jorias's background, so perhaps he and Att-lass had some in common, both having lost family to the Accusers.

At the dining table, Tank was exchanging jokes and anecdotes with Fury, while Maria had a more low-key conversation with Mav. Monica immediately joined them, having apparently left her glass of coke there.

“Carol’s powers are back,” Monica preempted, making it an announcement.

Everyone looked up from their conversations, awaiting further information from Carol, but she just smiled awkwardly, presenting her hand and giving it a little glow. 

“Yep, it’s true,” she offered, insufficiently.

Monica looked a bit disappointed, but soon recovered, diving back into conversation. Maria met her eyes though, and Carol nodded, hoping her expression conveyed what she was thinking. She wanted to tell Maria everying, not just about her strange encounters with Mar-vell, but the war and the years on Hala.

Fury also had an expectant look, meaning he too would want to understand what happened to her on her supposed ‘walk’. But that could wait for another time.

"I'm gonna get another beer," Carol said quietly to Yon-rogg and went to the kitchen. He followed, one of his hands trailing down the outside of her arm, sending a shiver through her. They hadn't had a moment in privacy since she woke up.

In the kitchen, she got a beer from the fridge, opened it and took a sip. She perched herself on the counter. Yon-rogg fetched a glass for himself and filled it with bottled water, ice and a lemon wedge. Carol's eyes followed his movements avidly. There was something oddly intimate about watching the fearsome space soldier be so at ease in a normal kitchen. Her stomach fluttered. She grabbed his shirt and pulled, trapping him between her knees, and kissed him. He obliged for a moment, then pulled back.

"You taste like beer," he grumbled.

"Poor baby," she teased, but took a sip of his lemon water, and pulled him to her lips again. She was aware that they probably looked like two drunk teenagers making out at a home party, but didn’t care.

"Stay here tonight," she said against his lips. "Try sleeping in a proper bed for once." Then, with a smile, she added, "Let Att-lass and Ta-rinn have the Aegis for themselves."

She felt the grip on her waist tighten. "I suppose they have deserved some time alone,"

"Absolutely," she agreed.

With his hands still on her, he stood back on his heels, looking thoughtful. "They told me they are thinking about starting a joint crew with Tank." Seeing her surprise, he continued, "They are talking about joining an organized resistance. A splinter group from the Empire. They want to help extract other defectors."

That made sense, Carol thought. Still, it made her worry. "So, are you going with them?"

He turned her question around and answered it at the same time. "Do _you_ want to?" 

Once again they had slipped back into talking about the future. Frightening territory, as she constantly feared they would have to concede to the fact that their views departed at some crucial point. Her reply was consciously vague. "I have some things to do. Starting at Knowhere."

"Whatever you want, Carol," he said surely, taking her face between his hands, stroking the quickly healing mark on her cheek. “I told you. I’m with you.”

She swallowed, feeling the weight of her words. "Even if I want to remove the Supreme Intelligence?"

There was a flicker of pain and regret in his eyes. Then his features hardened and with a certainty that surprised her, he answered, "Yes."

***

Saying goodbye to Maria and Monica felt easier this time. She knew it wouldn’t be long before they would see each other again, and with her new affinity for the jump points, she had a dazzling level of freedom to travel as she pleased, with or with or without a ship at her disposal.

Back on the Mar-vell, everyone was getting ready for travel. The decision had been made to stop at Raxon Prime, as Tank, Att-lass and Ta-rinn needed to buy a ship to fit their needs.

After a six hour trip, they were in orbit around Raxon. When Carol entered the Mar-vell’s hangar, she was met by Yon-rogg, walking out of the Aegis. He was in his armour, fully geared and carrying a pack with the rest of his clothes. She was wearing her uniform too, carrying a rucksack of clothes and bathroom essentials that Maria had given to her.

"Are you sure?" she asked, for at least the tenth time.

"I'm sure," he said. 

Just then, the hangar doors opened a second time and Att-lass, Ta-rinn and Tank entered. 

Att-lass looked questioningly at Yon-rogg's pack, and Carol who was setting hers down by her feet.

"We have an offer for you," Carol said with a smile, looking at Yon-rogg. "Or, a present, more like."

Yon-rogg turned to the trio. "We’re giving the Aegis to you."

Tank's mouth fell open. "No way," was all the Skrull soldier could say.

"Commander," came Att-lass's sober objection. "The Aegis is-"

"Exactly what you'll need," Yon-rogg interrupted with an easy grin. That particular smile was one of the 'new Yon-rogg' features Carol enjoyed the most. "You'll find nothing on Raxon that compares."

Att-lass turned his question to Carol, who nodded. "And I agree," she said. It had been Yon-rogg's idea, but once uttered, it made complete sense to her. She too wanted something smaller and more comfortable. Also, the thought of a proper bed as opposed to a narrow bunk was incredibly tempting, as of late.

"Well," Tank said, her face betraying her temptation as she scanned the sleek Kree vessel, "If you're both sure…"

"Just drop us off in port, before you leave." Carol said.

More people arrived in the hangar. Mav, Jorias, Talos - walking with a crutch - and Soren. Soren had something made of dark leather folded under her arm.

"There's, um, been a change of plans, apparently," Tank announced, having a hard time containing her grin.

"I heard," Soren replied, winking at Carol. She had already told Soren and Talos of their decision.

"But what about you?" Ta-rinn asked. "Will you be able to find a ship for yourselves?"

Carol and Yon-rogg exchanged smiles. Shortly after returning to the Mar-vell, Yon-rogg had received a message, an anonymous transfer of credits with a dna code lock. He'd told her it was from his father, or brother, or maybe both. It was more than enough to buy them a decent ship.

"Don't worry about us," Carol assured. "We've got things covered."

It was the right decision. The Aegis was an amazing ship but it was also a replica of the Helion. It would do her and Yon-rogg both good to get some distance from it. She'd miss flying it though.

"We'll take good care of it," Att-lass vowed, perhaps noticing her wistful look towards the ship.

"I know," Carol said.

Behind her Talos took a halting step forward. He was wearing his crown now. A golden band signifying that he was now the Skrulls' highest military commander. "Carol. Yon-rogg," he addressed them, and lifted something he was carrying, giving it to Yon-rogg. A memory unit.

The Skrull king looked seriously at the former Kree Commander. "I will trust your discretion with this. It is a copy of the Pallakor archives. Soren," he threw a glance at his mate, " insisted that you should have one. It might be the key to lasting peace between our peoples, and so it isn't wise to store the information in one place only."

Yon-rogg looked at the unit, then nodded grimly. "I will keep it safe." He opened a compartment in his bracer, slid the memory unit inside, and clicked it shut.

Talos nodded, seeming content with this. 

Soren stepped forward to Carol. "We took a look inside the Hanzar. All our things were still there, and we found this." She held up a leather jacket. It was black and brown, with a slim cut and a collar that could be folded up or down. Typical spacer garment. Soren handed it over to Carol. "I know it's not the same as the one you lost."

"It's great," Carol said, meaning it. She tried it on, on top of her uniform. "I love it. Thank you."

Carol hugged Soren first, then Talos. Both Skrulls insisted on touching foreheads, which always left her feeling undeserving. But since they obviously didn’t think so, perhaps she shouldn’t either. 

"I'll visit soon," Carol promised and hoisted her pack. Any more heartfelt words and she'd break into tears.

Tank stepped in front of Carol to catch Soren in a tight embrace. “Take care of yourself,” the soldier said with a wry smile, and then, towards Talos. “Make sure she does, ok?”

Talos grinned, his eyes lingering on his mate. “Don’t worry, Tank. I can be quite persuasive.”

Carol left the Skrulls to say their goodbyes, following Yon-rogg, Att-lass and Ta-rinn into the Aegis. 

Standing in the assembly area for the last in what would be a long time, Yon-rogg seemed to take in every little detail, as if remembering everything that had surpassed on this ship and its predecessor.

"Second thoughts?" Carol half joked before the moment became solemn.

He shook his head, full of confidence. "None at all."

***

They ran. Carol resisted the impulse to fly, wanting to stay close to Yon-rogg in case she had to protect him. The relentless onslaught of blaster and bullet fire, raining down on them from Tivan mercs on hovercrafts, forced them to duck and cover.

"Still no second thoughts?" she asked breathlessly.

"This," he growled, every line of his body showing how frustrated he was, "is why we need to plan _ahead_."

"Hey!" Carol protested while throwing a grenade back into the air so it exploded in a rain of sparks. "I didn't know this would happen."

Yon-rogg just rolled his eyes, making ready to sprint.

"I thought you’d be happy!" she called to his back as they made their way in under an awning. "We did just destroy the last droc in the Universe."

They found another cover under the roof of an abandoned storefront. "I have no objections to the goal-" He paused as a too close explosion forced them to cower lower, then gritted out, "-but the execution leaves a lot to be desired."

She pouted. "How was I supposed to know they'd be willing to blow up half of Exitar to get us?"

He shook his head, lips tight. "We better get a move on, so they don't beat us to the Lightshow."

Carol grimaced. "I should have done the grocery shopping _before_ breaking into Tivan Tower, I guess."

"Correct," he muttered, then ignited his gauntlets again, making ready for another sprint. She hoped this wouldn't end up with one of them sleeping in the cockpit. Yon-rogg could get so prickly at times.

They finally made it to the docks, and just in time too, as the hovercrafts moved into firing distance of the Lightshow. Their small vessel was a robust piece of engineering, but needed active shields if it would survive being fired on with projectile ammunition.

"Get in, I'll create a distraction," Carol said. Yon-rogg didn't argue, though by the look he gave her, she could tell he was almost as worried about the 'distraction' as the actual attackers. "So little faith," she muttered when he couldn't hear her.

Although Carol could blow up the dock and half of Exitar in a heartbeat if she so wished, she wasn't keen on risking the lives and livelihoods of so many beings. Tivan's mercs weren't so considerate, it turned out.

With as much care as she could afford, Carol sent blasts to the hovercrafts. Not to blow them apart, but just to fry their engines enough to force them to land. After the revelation she'd had with Mar-vell, her control over her powers had increased, adding to her arsenal of tricks.

With that done, she rushed inside the ship and found Yon-rogg ready in the pilot seat. The Lightshow hummed. She threw herself in the copilot seat. 

"Hold on," he warned.

They shot up from the landing pad with force that made them lose their breath for a moment.

"Woohoo!" Carol couldn't resist cheering, then laughed as the exhilaration of battle released its hold.

"We're not out of this yet," Yon-rogg cautioned while maneuvering them out of traffic and into open space.

Carol snorted. "They aren't dumb enough to attack us out here."

Silently conceding her point, he set the steering to auto and spun the chair a quarter lapse, facing her. She grinned. He made a valiant attempt at a stern look that faltered a second later, his lip twitching in amusement.

She leaned over the low divider between the seats. Their lips met first, then their hands found the other, grabbing hold of anything and everything.

"You didn't answer my question before," she reminded him.

He hummed distractedly, “About second thoughts?”

“Yes.”

"Not one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we are at the end. Thank you for reading. Thank you everyone who has commented and given kudos to the story. You are all wonderful people.  
> What follows here is an afterword with some behind-the-scenes information, playlist and a complete list of changes done since posting.
> 
> **Credit to:**  
>  DenseHumbolt, for beta reading every single chapter, including changes and updates. Her fic Running Cold was what made me want to write, and the Wraith, which I read at the same time I was writing, has been a major inspiration for the Skrulls’ part of the story. The name for Talos and Soren’s daughter, Indes, is borrowed from her fic, just like the character Tank, and some shifting technicalities.
> 
> PandoraCleo who showed me a really great way to structure and break down complex scenes and plotlines. Also she has done some additional beta work.
> 
> Elenapadmeamidala who is a relentless researcher and can find the answer to nearly everything I ask, from names of ship models and weapons to story details. 
> 
> GNorman_12 for feeding me comments and detailed feedback from the get go. Thank you ever so much.
> 
> CatNerdsOut for the great talks about character psychology and motivation, and for teaching me, an ignorant northern European, about American bbq culture.
> 
> Other media that have had a significant influence on the story of Allegiant (other than Captain Marvel, obviously) is Battlestar Galactica (2004-) and The Legend of Korra (2014). 
> 
> **Complete list of changes since posting the first chapter:**  
>  Chapter 1: Rewritten, slight narrative change to the SI scene. Among other things, the SI refers to Carol as “the Weapon”.  
> Chapter 2: Vorik given a brief description as being “tall and lanky”  
> Chapter 3: Added scene with Yon-rogg’s father to establish his family background.  
> Chapter 5: Removed encounter with OC Alistair, and added dream scene with Mar-vell.  
> Chapter 8: Kiss scene rewritten and shortened down in the process of giving the love story a clearer progression. Added a scene with Vorik and Soren to introduce him better as a character.  
> Chapter 13: Slight rewrite to fit a T-rating  
> Chapter 14: Rewritten (two times over!) to fit a T-rating.
> 
> **How the story evolved**
> 
> Initially, I was mostly planning to write a love story, but the romance plot soon became secondary.
> 
> The drocs were a plot I chose because I wanted a threat so severe that it would motivate Carol to help the Kree. The look of the drocs is inspired by the “Mimics” in Edge of Tomorrow. I also wanted a Skrull villain that could provide some more grays to the Kree-Skrull war. Veranke is inspired by Kuvira in the Legend of Korra.
> 
> Aside from the three obvious POV characters (Carol, Yon-rogg and Talos) Soren was recruited because I wanted a hero that was neither superpowered nor a warrior.
> 
> On-sar was just a side character at first, but then I came up with the idea of letting her be Att-lass’s mother. At that point I did many significant changes. For example, Soren was initially meant to go to Pallakor alone.
> 
> Ta-rinn was nothing but a name in the beginning, but I quickly realized I wanted more Starforce, and after adding a bit of healthy defiance and independence, she quickly became a favorite.
> 
> In the very first version, it wasn’t Veranke who shot Yon-rogg and captured Carol, but Ronan. I jokingly said that I liked Veranke better, so I gave ‘his’ villain job to her, but in the end, both were needed as an extremist example of their respective nations.
> 
> The ‘battery’ in the Collector’s museum has changed function and origin more times than I care to explain, but the final choice to let it be a part of a weapon felt like it made most sense.
> 
> Vorik was initially meant to be killed on Pallakor. But then I realized he could be Veranke’s sibling which offered an opportunity to tell a story about what made her the way she is. Also it was useful to have a tech nerd with a chatty disposition, who could explain to the reader what was happening. 
> 
> De-powering Carol wasn't an obvious choice. I initially had a story outline that didn't involve that, but as her arc evolved, it made more sense. I always wanted a story that was more about what choices you make with the power you have, rather than if you have power or not.
> 
> Carol’s story ending was partly inspired by Legend of Korra. I even borrowed (though slightly rewrote) one of my favorite quotes from that;  
> “When we hit our lowest point, we are open to the greatest change.”
> 
>  **Music**  
>  I love cinematic music and my playlists are always full of OSTs. Here’s a Spotify playlist that I used to get in the right writing mood for Allegiant.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6cMnaDnqm0pwmResNeluWl?si=L8FMUaH-T9uUttBqZwTkRA
> 
>  **Want to get in touch?**  
>  Find me on Tumblr: https://captaincinderbella.tumblr.com/


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